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foxy-eva · 5 months ago

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A Lesson in Faking it

Summary: An evening of fake dating leads to a night of revealing true feelings

Request: They have to pose as a couple and heavy make out in a club or a bar to get the attention of an unsub. When the case is over they also have to share the hotel bedroom

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Smut, Fluff

Content Warnings: (18+, minors DNI) Fake dating in a swinger club, mentions of case related violence, consensual voyeurism (because they are in a swinger club) including BDSM scenes, implied bisexual reader, awkwardness, tension, jealousy, heavy kissing, fingering, protected penetrative sex

Word count: 4.2k

Masterlist

Joining the BAU came with a lot of new experiences for you. Today you learned that going to a swinger club with Spencer Reid would be one of them.

It was the hunting ground of the latest unsub you chased and you and the good looking doctor just happened to be the same age group as his previous victims. So it was only logical that you’d have to pose as a couple to finally catch this guy.

Spencer was resistant at first but when he realized it was the only good option your team had at catching this guy, he agreed at last.

“Let’s do this, babe!” you chirped as you stepped into the backseat of the car where Spencer was already waiting for you. He raised his eyebrows when he heard the nickname you chose for him.

Luke drove the car while Emily explained the details of your mission. The overly confident demeanor you displayed was your way of hiding the fact that posing as a couple with Spencer would certainly be your downfall. For weeks you had been pining after him while desperately trying to not let your true feelings show.

From the corners of his eyes your coworker ogled your outfit and you couldn't ignore how he licked his lips while doing it. The lacy top you wore barely covered your skin and left little to the imagination. Together with skin-tight black leather pants it was the perfect outfit for a fake date night at the swinger club.

Turning to Spencer, you looked at his clothes. He was wearing a black dress shirt and suit pants, not too different from his usual work attire. With a playful smirk you reached for his shirt, prompting him to almost jump at the contact.

“What are you doing?” he squeaked, his voice a lot higher than usual.

He didn't stop you when you undid the first two buttons of his shirt. “Making you look less like an agent,” you explained.

“Reid, you better get used to her touching you,” Luke laughed while looking at the rear-view mirror. “Don’t bust this mission right away.”

“We’re not undercover yet,” he retorted while rolling his eyes.

“Maybe you two should talk about your boundaries before you go in,” Emily suggested with a firm tone. “I don't want either of you to be uncomfortable.”

Spencer sighed at her words. “That’s gonna be difficult in a swinger club.”

Emily turned around to look at the two of you. “You said you were okay with it. We can abort this mission right now if you’re having second thoughts.”

“No, it’s fine,” Spencer said and looked at you. “As long as you’re okay with it, too.”

You nodded. “I’m good.”

That's what you had convinced yourself to believe, at least. Being surrounded by half-naked people in an overtly sexual environment while trying to catch a killer with your ridiculously attractive coworker was certainly not an easy task. Neither Spencer nor you had been to a place like that before. It was hard to imagine what exactly would expect you and how that would make you feel.

“Are you okay with me touching you?” Spencer asked, concern written over his face.

Despite Emily’s suggestion to discuss exactly that, his question still caught you by surprise. Imagining his hands brushing along your body let your heart beat uncomfortably fast inside your chest.

“Uhm… yeah, I am. Just not uh… everywhere,” you awkwardly laughed.

“Just be reasonable,” Emily requested. “I really don’t want us to end up in a meeting with HR.”

“What about kissing?” Spencer asked both you and Emily.

A silent gasp rolling over your lips at the thought of his mouth on yours. Of course you knew that anything happening tonight was a sham but that didn’t change the fact that you yearned for his nearness nonetheless.

“If you're both comfortable with it,” your unit chief answered.

Without thinking too much about it, you said, “I’m okay with it.”

A reassuring smile spread over Spencer’s face. “Yeah, me too.”

“Make sure to never separate and have each other’s backs,” Luke reminded you. “You're both wearing your ankle holsters, right?”

In unison Spencer and you nodded.

“From what we know he’ll try to separate his victims from the crowd by asking them to watch them or join them having sex. The men were all tied up when they were found, that's how he gained control. Don't forget that he’s extremely dangerous once you're alone with him. He has managed to overpower three couples so far,” Emily warned you. “So please be careful.”

There was no reason to worry, you knew that Spencer would not let anything happen to you. His presence made you feel safe and you were confident that this mission would be successful.

At your destination, you got out of the car and instinctively grabbed Spencer's hand as you approached the entrance of the club. There was no hesitation on his side either, he intertwined his fingers with yours without making a comment. It felt natural, almost normal to hold his hand.

Once you stepped in, you were glad to have someone to hold onto. The sight of barely clothed people flirting and making out with each other was overwhelming. When you walked by a couple having sex in a jacuzzi, you felt the heat rushing to your face.

It was almost impossible to focus and you had no idea where to look without seeing something even more scandalous. Spencer noticed your current state and gently squeezed your hand.

“It will take a few moments to desensitize,” he explained seemingly unfazed. “Just try to relax.”

How he could stay so cool in a situation so awkward was inexplicable. His words proved to be right, though. After the initial shock had faded, you were able to focus more on your surroundings without feeling too much out of place.

The people in the club seemed respectful and genuine. You realized that they were all just trying to have a good time in a safe environment. A vulnerability the unsub exploited.

“You good?” Spencer murmured after locking eyes with you.

“Yeah I’m okay. Are you?”

He nodded before scanning the room once more. “Nothing suspicious so far,” he mumbled before turning back to you again. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

His words made you smile and reminded you that you were supposed to pose as a couple tonight. “Thank you.”

Spencer placed his hand around your waist to pull you closer. “So, what are you in the mood for tonight, sweetheart?”

Leaning against his body, you winked at him before chirping, “I think I just wanna watch, for now.”

You made your way around the club, peeking in every room to look out for a sign of the unsub. In an attempt to merge into the crowd, you tried your best to act like a couple enjoying the show. It was weird and awkward to be there but having Spencer by your side made it tolerable. After a while curiosity took over as you took a look around the club.

You stood in the doorframe of a room with a couple having the most sweet and loving sex when a sigh fell from your lips. It had been a while since you were intimate with anyone. Watching someone else in such a vulnerable moment let your heart yearn for a similar connection.

“They are so cute,” you said when Spencer looked at you with raised eyebrows. “Don’t you think?”

Your coworker just shrugged and took your hand to walk over to a different room. The expression on his face didn't reveal how he felt and you began to wonder if the stoicism he displayed was just a cover for his discomfort.

The next scene that unfolded in front of you was too intense to hold back a gasp. Skillfully, a man was tying ropes over a woman’s body in an artistic way. It was obvious how much she enjoyed her confinement, moaning loudly whenever another cord dug into her skin.

You couldn't help but imagine how you would feel in her place. The attention the man paid to her was unlike anything you’d ever seen. It was pure adoration.

“Woah,” you muttered. “That's beautiful.”

Spencer leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Do you have to comment on everything we see?”

Tilting your head to look at him, you retorted, “Sorry, not everyone can play it as cool as you.”

“We’re wired,” Spencer reminded you. “Our team hears everything we say.”

With a smug grin on your face you teased, “So, bondage isn’t your thing?”

Rolling his eyes, he chuckled, “No comment.”

A smirk formed on his face even though he tried to suppress it. Maybe he wasn’t as unfazed by all of this as he led on.

When you got to the next room, you almost froze in place when you realized what was happening. Two women, one more gorgeous than the other, were on a bed pleasuring each other. The skin on your face heated up so much you were practically glowing. With your mouth hanging open, you couldn't avert your eyes from them.

From the corner of your eyes you realized that Spencer was watching you instead of them. “Interesting,” he chuckled.

Almost choking on your own saliva, you muttered, “Shut up.”

Your words caught the attention of the women in front of you. They both smiled when they looked at you.

“You’re very pretty,” one of them said to you. The other one nodded and added, “Would you like to join us?”

“Uhm…,” was the only thing that made it past your lips.

It wasn’t as if you actually considered accepting their invitation, this situation was just a little too much for you to handle.

In an instant, Spencer grabbed your hand to drag you away into a private corner.

“You need to get ahold of yourself,” he playfully scolded you.

His implication that you were acting unprofessional made you angry. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Spencer stepped closer and let his fingertips drag along the neckline of your top, making your skin break out in goosebumps. For a moment you thought he was trying to feel you up. It surprised you how little you resisted his touch. In fact, his attention was very welcome and you wouldn’t even have thought about rejecting his move.

Then you realized that he was looking for the microphone of your wire. When he found it, he pressed against it and leaned towards your ear while covering his own mic with his other hand.

“I can tell you're really aroused right now,” he softly spoke.

Embarrassment clouded your mind when you heard his words. You felt like he had just caught you in the act.

“What? That's not true!” you whisper-yelled in response.

“Are you sure about that?” He took a moment to lean back and look at you before finding your ear once more. “Your pupils are dilated, your chest is heaving and–”

“Don’t profile me!” you squeaked. Taking a moment to breathe, you asked, “How is none of this affecting you at all?”

That was when you noticed the rosy shade on his cheeks. Before he could answer, Emily’s voice echoing from your earpiece brought both of you back to reality.

“Is everything okay? We suddenly only hear muffled sounds,” she asked, her voice laced with concern.

Your coworker let go of the mics and said, “Yes, everything is fine.”

“Good,” you heard her through the earpiece. “I don’t know what exactly is going on but it sounded like you two were arguing. Remember, you’re supposed to act like a lovey-dovey couple to catch the unsub’s attention.”

“Yes, we’re on it,” Spencer said before he took your hand. “Let’s have a drink at the bar.”

Without questioning his move, you followed him and ordered a glass of water at the bar. Sipping the cool liquid helped you clear your head and focus back on your mission.

“Is it possible that he isn’t here tonight?” You asked your coworker as you watched him look around.

Seemingly absent-minded, he said, “Maybe.”

After a moment, Spencer placed his drink back on the bar and grabbed your waist to pull you closer. The sudden contact let a gasp fall from your mouth. His lips lowered down to your ear, his hot breath tickling your neck. As if it was the most natural thing in the world, your arms found their home around his neck to pull him even closer.

“Someone’s watching us,” he breathed before gently letting his lips graze over your pulse point. Before he proceeded, he wanted to make sure, “I’m going to kiss you now. Is that okay?”

“Y… Yes.”

Without hesitation, his hands cupped your cheeks as he leaned in for the kiss. Your heart threatened to jump out of your chest and you couldn’t help but press your body firmly against his to feel even more of him. Playfully, your fingertips intertwined with the curls in the nape of his neck and you felt him smile into the kiss.

His lips were so soft and tender but grew hungrier with every second passing. Feeling his tongue brushing against yours was enough to make you forget about your surroundings and you had a feeling that the current mission might have slipped Spencer’s mind as well.

Suddenly, he leaned back before he mumbled, “He’s gone.”

Confused about what he was talking about, you mumbled, “Huh?”

“The guy who was watching us,” he clarified as he turned his head to look for him. “Come, I have an idea.”

Following his lead, you walked right behind him as he approached an empty room. He left the door wide open when he entered, allowing any passerby to watch whatever he was planning to do. Nervousness overcame you when you locked eyes with him, unsure of what he had in mind.

Gently, he grabbed your arms to turn you around so you were facing the door. He stood right behind you as he placed his hands on your waist and leaned down to whisper, “Keep your eyes on the door. And please tell me if you’re uncomfortable.”

Then he began kissing along your neck, licking and nipping on the sensitive skin in a way that made your head spin. However, it was nothing compared to the feeling that overcame you when his hands began wandering over your body. His fingertips buried into the fabric of your shirt as they moved further down to grip your hips.

There was no way to hinder the moan from falling from your lips. Spencer halted his motions for a split second, obviously surprised by your reaction, before he continued. You tilted your head to give him better access as he continued caressing your neck while his hands explored your body.

It was difficult to keep your eyes open but you still managed to watch the curious glances of the people passing by. One man walked by the room and lingered for several moments before he disappeared again, only to come back a few seconds later. He stood in the doorframe to unabashedly watch how your coworker manhandled your body.

“Babe,” you moaned to alert him. “Don’t stop.”

Your coworker understood immediately, his eyes fluttering open to look at the man watching the two of you. Now all you had to do was to make him take the bait.

Your nerves were on edge, adrenaline rushing through your body at the thought that a potential serial killer was watching you. Turning your head, you found Spencer’s lips while his hands moved along your top to carefully touch your breasts. That was what seemed to catch the man’s attention.

“Can I join you two?” He said as he stepped closer.

Spencer let go of you to watch him intently. You looked at the unsub, faking your best smile when you said, “Of course.”

Closing the door behind him, he walked towards you, scanning your body as he licked his lips. The way he looked at you sent a shiver down your spine and let a knot form in your stomach. If this really was the unsub, you knew you couldn’t let this get too far and had to make your arrest quickly.

Stepping closer to him until there was barely any distance left, you playfully cooed, “So, what are you into?”

Motioning at your coworker, he said, “I would love to see you tie your boyfriend up and make him watch as I fuck you.”

Spencer huffed at his words. One wrong move from the guy and you were sure Spencer would break his nose. His suggestion was exactly the modus operandi you saw with the unsub. There was no more doubt it was him.

“Yeah?” you purred while reaching into your purse without raising any suspicions. Then, without a warning you swiftly grabbed his arm to pin it behind his back and push him against a wall. “What if I tied you up?” You snarled as you handcuffed him. “You’re under arrest.”

“That was smooth,” Spencer chuckled as he stepped closer to assist you.

After finishing up the arrest and the necessary paperwork for the day, your team headed to the hotel for the night.

“Sorry guys, the hotel is overbooked,” Emily announced once she returned from the reception with keycards in her hands. “We’ll have to double up.”

Before you realized what was happening, everyone of your coworkers quickly paired up with someone and left you and Spencer standing in the lobby. Too much had already happened tonight and you were too tired to try to convince someone else to share a room with you. If you could make out with him in a swinger club, you’d survive sharing a hotel room with Spencer.

When you entered the room you quickly realized that there was only one bed. “Of course,” you laughed at the absurdity of the situation.

“Are you okay with this?” Spencer wondered when he came to halt behind you. “I can sleep on the floor if you’re uncomfortable.”

“Yeah right,” you deadpanned. “You can grope my boobs but sharing a bed is where we draw the line.”

Turning around to find his eyes, you noticed how the color drained from his face at your words.

“I was joking. Relax! We’re all good,” you tried to calm him.

“I still feel like I overstepped back there,” he confessed as his sight dropped to the floor.

You stepped closer to him and placed your palms on his chest, tenderly brushing over the fabric of his dress shirt. “See?” you snickered. “Now we’re even.”

Locking eyes with you, he showed you the sweetest smile. “What about your hickey?” he chuckled.

In an instant your hand flew to your neck as you walked over to the mirror. With widened eyes you squeaked, “You gave me a hickey?!”

Inspecting the red and blue spot on your neck, you felt your cheeks heating up. The fact that Spencer had left a mark on you and everyone had already seen it before you could cover it up, made you feel dizzy.

Spencer walked up behind you and found your eyes in the mirror. “Can I be honest with you?” After you nodded, he said, “I did it on purpose.”

“Why?”

His voice was laced with a certain desperation when he kept talking. “I hated the way the people at the club looked at you. Like you were just another piece they needed for their collection.”

Confusion was written over your face when you stared at him through the reflection of the mirror. Focussed on watching everyone else back there, you hadn’t noticed how the other people at the swinger club had looked at you.

“So you marked me?” you mumbled.

For a moment he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I know you were just pretending but it was too hard to resist. I’m sorry, I overstepped.”

His choice of words replayed in your mind once more until you realized what they meant.

“Spencer,” you muttered as you turned around to face him. “Are you saying you were jealous? For real?”

“Yes,” he confessed.

It was as if his words broke the last restraint you still had. There was no more going back from this and you both knew it. Spencer still seemed surprised when you swung your arms around his neck to capture his lips in a hungry kiss. After the initial shock subsided, he grabbed your waist and reciprocated your motions.

“I have wanted this for so long,” he muttered against your lips.

Between more kisses you breathed, “Me too.”

Weeks of longing and pining finally unloaded as you both gave into your desires. Walking over to the bed, you hastily began undressing one another until the last piece of clothing fell to the floor and you laid down on the mattress.

Spencer took a moment to take in your beauty before he joined you. “You’re so pretty,” he cooed between more kisses. “So are you,” you answered as you welcomed him on top of you.

His lips grazed along your jaw before they found your neck, littering it with tender kisses. When he bit down on the sensitive skin, your hands flew to his hair to tug on them.

“Please no more hickey,” you purred. “I’m already yours.”

Leaning back, he found your eyes, a soft smile painted over his face. Then he kissed you again, groaning, “Mine” against your lips.

The confirming hum you let out in response quickly morphed into a whine once you felt one of his hands moving down your body. With purposeful motions it found its destination between your legs, making your body tremble at the sudden contact.

Despite still yearning for more kisses, Spencer leaned back to be able to look at you when he began dragging his fingertips along your slit. When he found you already desperate for his touch, he sighed and closed his eyes for a second to savor the moment.

You couldn’t hold back anymore and began rocking your hips against his hand ever so slightly. He wasn’t in a teasing mood and obliged your silent plea as he began drawing precise circles around your little nub.

“Spencer,” you whined his name and noticed how his pupils dilated. “Please!”

Two of his fingers lingered at your entrance for a second before slowly pushing in, making you arch your back at the sudden pressure. Your hand became curious as well and wandered down his stomach until it made contact with the tender skin of his cock. Before you could fully wrap your fingers around him, Spencer’s body began trembling.

“I need you,” he whined, desperation clearly audible in his voice.

Take me, you wanted to beg him before the rational side of your brain took over. “Do you have a condom?” you said instead.

“Y… Yeah, I do,” he murmured as he carefully withdrew his hand from your center.

Hurried and with little grace he got up from the bed to find his bag. He pulled out the condom and returned, finding you staring at him with raised eyebrows and a smug grin. For a moment you considered asking him why exactly he had condoms in his go-bag but decided against it. Right then you were glad he was prepared.

Kneeling between your legs, he put the condom on before leaning over you to capture your lips in another kiss. You reached between your bodies to guide him to your waiting heat. He didn’t hesitate to push into you, a deep groan escaping his throat as he felt your tight walls enveloping him.

The pressure he provided was almost overwhelming, making you whimper when he was fully inside you. Before he could mistake your excitement with discomfort, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pleaded, “Fuck me, Spencer.”

Slow at first, he began pushing into you until he was sure that you could take the full extent of his eagerness. With purposeful motions he thrusted into you, showing no more reservations when you began singing his praise in the form of moans falling from your lips.

When your walls began fluttering around him, Spencer realized how close he had come to his own downfall. Neither of you wanted it to be over. Both of you craved to prolong this feeling of being one.

“You feel so good,” he praised you as his motions became more erratic.

You stared up at the man on top of you, heat rushing through your body at the sight. Shimmering skin and unruly curls, crimson red cheeks and lips hanging open, lust filled eyes and scrunched up brows. Never in your life had you seen anything more beautiful.

Your name fell from his lips like a prayer right when his hand moved to where your bodies were joined to press his thumb against your most sensitive spot. The way he caressed you sent shockwaves through your body, feeding the tension that begged to be released.

When ecstasy finally overcame you, Spencer followed you into the sensation of pure bliss. Every pulsing of your walls was answered with him twitching inside you before he collapsed into your arms.

Your fingers began playing with his curls as he evened out his breathing against your neck. It was then that you realized that even when you pretended to be a couple earlier, there was no reason to fake anything. It had been real from the start.

Thank you for reading! Please like, reblog and leave a comment to show your support and help me stay motivated to write more stories!

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kaeyas-beloved · 1 year ago

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a moment too late

Characters: Ayato, Diluc, Childe, Cyno, Wriothesley, Zhongli

— your husband doesn't make it to you in time...

CW: ANGST w/ very little to no comfort, gn!reader (they/them pronouns), scars (Diluc), blood (Diluc, Childe, Cyno, Zhongli), death (all except Cyno and Diluc), kidnapping (Cyno), minor Fontaine Act 1 + 4 spoilers (Primordial Sea Water - iykyk), spoilers for Childe’s real name

val's no sympathy novemeber masterlist

I don't know if I can take a month of hurting my boys....

Thinking about them not making it in time...

Ayato, who had been in an important meeting.

He'd given strict instructions to all his retainers and the Shuumatsuban to not interrupt under any circumstance. So, when one of the newer helpers knocked on the door, the commissioner was less than pleased. Without letting the young man get a word out, Ayato cuts him off, a sharp smile on his face. "Please, wait outside. I'll deal with the matter after this."

When the retainer tried again, a feeble "but, my lord-!" sputtering over his twisted tongue, the change in Ayato's tone couldn't be missed, and it left no room for interjections.

When a second knock echoed through the room some minutes later, it took everything in the clan head not to sigh out loud in front of all the powerful politicians and businessmen. This time, however, when it was the familiar face of Thoma that stepped in, a scarily straight face as his expression, something shifted in the male. It didn't help that the pyro user didn't stop his advancement toward him, even at the call of his name.

It was like the whole world shattered the moment the blond leaned by his ear, the news that you'd been placed in the nearest hospital plummetting his heart into his stomach.

There's this inner struggle that takes over, the role of a leader and your husband fighting against one another - he can't just leave so abruptly, but he also feels like he might crumble if he isn't by your side in the next ten seconds.

It's the firm hand that's placed on his shoulder that breaks him away from his thoughts. Following the arm he meets the slight smile of Thoma, "I have this handled, my lord. Go, be with them."

He's up and out of the room in an instant, briskly walking in the direction of the hospital. When he gets there he borderline demands the receptionist to tell him your room number, off again the moment she gets the last syllable out. Just as he reaches the curtain separating you from him, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest, a doctor steps out.

"Lord Kamisato..." his tone is grave as he blocks the entrance with his body. Despite the obvious attempt to stop the young lord from entering, your husband tries to sidestep him. He's stopped by a simple raise of the hand and he feels a mix of disdain and unsettlement swirl within.

"Please, let me speak with them," Ayato nothing but begs, something he never does. He's known as a negotiator, a logical reasoning man, he doesn't need to beg for what he needs in the political world, but for you, his world, he'd gladly grovel at this man's feet just for you.

The aforementioned man licks his lips, adjusting his clipboard so it rests against his chest, "I'm sorry Mr. Kamisato, but that won't be possible..."

The urgency rises and Ayato moves the doctor out of his way, stepping into your room. It doesn't take a genius to put two and two together about what was trying to be said, but your lover can't bring himself to believe it. Not you too.

The moment he's at your bedside he leans close, trying to wear a smile as he places his hand on your shoulder, softly shaking you the exact same way he did that very morning. "My dear... wake up. This is no time for your silly tricks, we have to go home and have dinner together like I promised." His warm hands move up to your cheek, brushing his thumb along your equally warm skin, but when you make no move or noise the reality finally sets in for him.

His broken smile slips and all he can manage is a soft call of your name. Of course, there's still no answer, and Ayato is stuck flipping between the different stages of grief.

What if he'd listened the first time? Let the retainer who initially walked in speak? Would he have gotten a chance to speak with you? To tell you he loves you? To say goodbye properly?

You can't actually be dead, right? There's no way this is happening to him again.

He starts to promise to spend more time with you, he'll take off as much time as you want him to, he'll take you to that restaurant you've been wanting to go to but couldn't bring yourself to without him, he'll visit the land of Liyue with you - he knows you've been gushing about the scenery and culture recently. He'll do it all and more, you just had to open your eyes again for him.

Silence.

"Damn it all..." he whispered, face twisting in agony. Of course he couldn't have it his way this time. As if his parents weren't enough, the world just had to take you away from him too.

The doctor watches for a moment as one of the most powerful men in Inazuma sheds tear after tear before him, the droplets falling and hitting your lifeless body. As Ayato sinks to his knees before you, the doctor takes this as his cue to step out.

For the next few hours, the hospital is noticeably quieter, no one daring to interrupt a man who's just lost one of the dearest people to him.

For the next few hours, Ayato's tears slowly soak your shirt, his grip on the bedding knuckle white, his sobs muffled by your skin as it slowly grows colder and colder, fighting to commit everything about you to memory.

That night, he could not bring himself to eat dinner, for all he could remember was you, the way you smiled at him and how it was all ripped away from him, never to be seen again.

———

Diluc, whose connections are spread all over the world yet no one could locate you.

It should be impossible. The owner of Dawn Winery only associates himself with competent business partners. So, how could it be that the best of the best from all walks of life and all backgrounds couldn't locate the one person he needed to find?

Tirelessly, the redhead looked for you. Many sleepless nights weighed on him from shouldering so many responsibilities at once. He constantly asked for updates on the investigation and every time the news that there were no advances was just another layer of stress for him. So, of course, the moment the word of your location reached his ears, Diluc was up and out the door, claymore in hand, a fury in his eyes that few have seen only a handful of times.

When he got there, there being some far corner of Starfell Valley on the mountainside, there was no time to process or ask questions. All he knew was that you needed help if you wanted even a chance of making it out alive.

By a stroke of luck, you managed to escape the Abyss Mages that had been holding you hostage, an atrocious act that was no doubt aimed to make The Darknight Hero suffer. However, weaponless and exhausted, the creatures of down under easily caught up to you, surrounding you and throwing you around like a ragdoll. Diluc counted seven - one hydro, two electro, two cryo and two pyro - each using the elements to keep you from running too far.

With a few swift strikes of his enflamed claymore, the cryo and hydro mages disappeared in a cloud of red and black. Of course, they'd be the easiest of the group to get rid of. The last four would be the real challenge.

In between strikes, Diluc managed to get close to you, bending down to your fallen form. “Are you alright? Can you walk?” He did a once over of your body, noting that dirt clung to you and a couple cuts littered your skin. You could barely move too, having the shit kicked out of you.

“Not very far…” you groaned, raising your body slightly off the ground. Your lover nodded, glancing at the enemy before helping you stand.

“That’s alright, just get to that tree over there. I’ll come get you and take you home soon.” Diluc watches for a moment as you nod and begin to make your way over, turning his back to you once you've made decent progress. Taking up his weapon once more, it's a brutal clash of sparks and fire as he lets his adrenaline and rage fuel his every move. Soon, one electro mage goes down, and then the second and then one of the pyro ones until all that stands between him and getting you medical care and a nice bath is a single pyro Abyss Mage.

The demonic creature cackles loudly, a shrill sound that echoes in the silence. As it begins to wave its staff, a shock of recognition strikes Diluc and he glances around, looking for where the fire-breathing faces are going to appear. When he doesn't spot any dread fills his being and he chances a glance towards you, praying to the Archons that what he's thinking isn't about to play out.

The gods weren't in his favour.

Time seems to slow as he watches the triangle of heads surround you; he watches as you slowly turn to face one head-on, your tired eyes widening as you register the situation. Dilcu's only able to catch you turning your face away before he attacks the mage while its guard is down, interrupting its early dance of victory.

The next few minutes are a blur, both for you and your husband. Everything hurts, any slight movement or breath sends shooting pain through your body. When Diluc picks you up off the ground you let out the most heartbreaking cry he's heard and it took everything in him not to just stand there and soothe you.

He mumbled apology after apology, offering words of comfort as he ran as best he could without harming you further. When he made it to the cathedral he was ushered out of the room, every nun available flocking to your side. Despite the overwhelming emotions building in him, Diluc lets you go, waiting with as much patience as he can muster, which isn't a lot at that moment.

It takes about an hour before a sister approaches him, every second that he waited excruciating. She tells him that while your face was unharmed, you having managed to lean out of the way just in time, your upper arm, shoulder and the base of your neck on your left side were burned pretty bad and that scarring was almost guaranteed.

"But are they alive?" is all he asks in return. He cares that you were hurt, but he cares more to know if you'll live to spend another day with him. All the sister can do is nod, informing him that recovery will be slow, but you are alive. She adds right after that while you passed out from everything he was still allowed to enter and sit by your side. So, he does.

The nun didn't lie when she told him that things would be slow. It took several days before you could be discharged, and even when you were the days and nights that followed were filled with more torture than the usual joy.

Your burns would irritate at the slightest things, and you started to doubt your looks, wondering if your husband would still love you by the end when the wounds were all healed. At night you were haunted by nightmares of your time in captivity, and by the face of the abyss spell that burned you. It didn't help that the face was red and fluffy, just like Diluc's hair, leaving you to back away from him every time you woke up from that recurring dream, your mind tricking you that that thing had come back.

And all Diluc could do was hold you close to his chest once you saw that it was just him. He'd rub a warm hand along your back as you sobbed and shivered, quietly blaming himself for not being fast enough - to find you, to defeat the enemy, to get you out of the way of the fight. If he had been, if he succeeded in any of those things, then maybe you wouldn't have to live with this pain and trauma.

You were alive, but at what cost?

———

Childe, who was all the way in Inazuma for a mission.

Your husband left you that fateful day with a tight hug, a promise to come home and a kiss on the lips. As he walked further and further away from you all you could think about was greeting him in the same fashion. Your touch was his favourite thing after all, a reminder that you're there with him and that you love him despite all his wrongdoings.

The day came when Ajax set foot back in his homeland, and the first thing he did was search for you at the dock. When he didn't spot you, he'll admit he was a little disappointed but didn't think much of it. You were most likely just relaxing at home.

Yet, when he walked through the door he couldn’t find you anywhere. “Strange… where could they have gone? Maybe mom and dad’s?”

A quick trip over there reveals nothing however, just the tidbit of information from his mother on how it’s been a couple days since you’ve visited and that you last told them you were needing to chop some firewood.

Now he was not only confused but a sense of dread plagued his chest. Hoping it’s just his normal worrying, Ajax bids farewell to his family and heads back home. Sure enough, he spotted some stacked logs off to the side. What didn’t make sense though was the lack of an axe and the footprints that lead further into the tree line behind your home.

Following the tracks, the male’s eyes widen and his expression falls as the patterns in the snow go from clean prints to frantic clusters, as if you began running. What really injected fear into him though was the barely visible Treasure Hoarder insignia buried in the snow, its gold sheen glistening from the sun.

At this point his feet had a mind of their own as he picked up the pace, his mind running a mile a minute with the scariest thoughts his brain could conjure.

He wasn’t sure if he should've been relieved or frightened when he found you lying in the snow. Either way, he sprinted the rest of the way to you, calling out your name. You were on your side, back to him; you must’ve rolled into the fetal position to stay warm.

And that’s when he noticed it, the pink tint of the usually pure white snow surrounding your fallen form. Panic shoots through him as he rolls you onto your back, his hand recoiling at the state you were in, covering his mouth.

"No..." your cold gaze stares up at the sky, skin lacking the warmth he craves after a long day. Between the folds of your undone coat reveals where most, if not all the blood flowed from, now dry from days passed. With a shaky hand, he moves the cloth aside, surveying the damage.

The cut was deep but didn't hit anything major from the looks of it... you would have bleed out slow and painfully, and the mere idea makes him sick to his stomach. More and more he looks at the damage done to you and the more his blood boils and his heart stutterers. You were innocent, his spouse, his best friend, you had no intimate dealings with Fatui work, so why you?

His eyes narrow back in the direction of the insignia, the sorrow morphing into anger; they were fucking cowards, going after you instead of him. At the sanctuary of your home no less.

Looking back at the body that once housed your soul, he noticed something odd about your hand. It was clasped shut like you were holding onto something.

He starts to pry your fingers open, and for just a moment he can imagine that you're alive, back in the warmth of your home, grasping his scarf in a game of keep away. He'd pull you close, wrapping an arm around you and trapping you to his chest, grasping your wrist and trying to get the red fabric from you. Your husband would laugh merrily, "demanding" that you give him it back or else, to which you'd tell him no, because as long as you had it then he couldn't leave for the day.

When your palm finally opens up is the same moment time really stops and the world doesn't feel real around him. Picking up the small object, Ajax clasps it in his own hands, bringing it close to his chest - his heart - in hopes of feeling just the last bit of you left behind. He won't ever know this, but what he's doing now was exactly what you did in your final hour - you held the tangible promise you made with him close to you, your thoughts filled with him and only him as you took your last breath.

From that day onwards, your wedding ring rests against his collarbone, a string looped through it. He never takes it off, nor does he remove his own ring, because to him, you were the only one fit to take the place at his side in life. He doesn't want anyone else to love him, because no one could ever love or hold him in such high regard like you did.

It was everything or nothing, and you are his everything. Since you're gone, he'll gladly settle for nothing. Anything else and he'd label himself a cheater to your love.

———

Cyno, who prioritized catching the mastermind, lest any more innocents get hurt.

The General Mahamatra trudged back through the desert sands, clouds of dust trailing behind him. His grip was tight against the criminal’s wrists, leaving no room for escape. While part of him was solely focused on the captured mastermind, another part of him was thinking about you and how he's going to make it up to you for neglecting you the last few weeks. How could he ever possibly thank you or repay you for your neverending patience?

Rounding the last rock, Cyno finally makes it back to where he left you, having instructed you to wait there until he returned. You know that it was vital to stay put, so why is it that you've disappeared? Eyes red like the sunset scan the camp, finding that nothing was missing among your personal belongings or supplies.

As he continued to try and piece together the clues, you stood frozen in the shadows, an arm pulling you against a chest, keeping you in place. The hand over your mouth didn't help quell your fear, nor did the warm, rancid breath that tickled your neck.

How hard do you have to stare at the back of your lover's head for him to just turn in your direction!? Apparently very hard, because no matter how much you will a telepathic message his way, he still fails to find you. Tears begin to slide down your face - is this really it? Will this be the end? When he's so close to you? Will he turn and walk in the wrong direction, giving the man holding you time to escape with you in tow?

The looming threat that if you step out of line you risk harming yourself and Cyno plays in your mind, but you also remember nights lying in bed with your husband, whispering reassurance to him that no matter the situation you knew he'd always save you. You had full confidence in his abilities.

Gathering your resolve you take a leap of faith and elbow your captor, biting the hand that impairs your voice. Making a mad dash from the hiding spot, you scream for Cyno, watching as his head whips in your direction.

It all happened so fast after that. One second there's just you, him and the two Eremites and in the next, you're surrounded. The mastermind Cyno had been holding manages to retch his arms free, whistling a tune causing other desert dwellers to pop up from seemingly nowhere. A capture net is being thrown over you, aiming true and trapping you once more. Cyno, now flanked from all sides, can only watch helplessly as two men grasp the ends of the net, dragging you like you're nothing but a sack of goods.

You squirm with all your might, but it does nothing as you're effortlessly tossed in a caravan, screaming and sobbing for your husband. Amidst the scuffle, the leader orders the others to "shut them up" and right after a powder is poured on you, the effects taking seconds to kick in.

You begin to quiet until you slump on your side, and Cyno feels the urgency build even more. He channels all the strength he has into at least breaking through to get to you, but the moment he does the snap of reins echoes out and the cart takes off.

So, he runs, because for once something much for valuable that his life is on the line. Because he can't afford to let the bad guy get away this time.

But a man cannot match the pace of a horse, and it isn't long before his stamina reaches its limit and he stumbles, and you disappear over the horizon.

———

Wriothesley, who believed he could save everyone.

By no means was the warden of the Fortress of Meropide lacking in skills. He's proven time and time again that he's worthy of the title of Duke among the underwater structure, able to shoulder the responsibility of keeping each and every inmate well cared for and as comfortable as possible.

Perhaps that was the reason he's failing now to protect those he really cares for, for you were no inmate, but rather the person he swore to spend the rest of his life with.

He knew that this day would come, but he was still so, so unprepared for it. The damn seal was due to break sooner or later, and it chose today of all days to do so. The evacuation was quick, maybe even quicker than the first one, but there was one difference this time around. Today was also the day that a couple Melusines had come in Monsieur Neuvillette's place, delivering some reports to Wriothesley while also taking this time to speak with Sigewinne.

"Where are they?" The Duke grits his teeth, running through every area he can reach. You weren't far behind, having insisted a second pair of eyes was better than one. When another room turned up empty he slammed his first into the wall, cursing loudly.

You did another look through in the places he missed before sighing, placing a hand on his chest, "We'll find them Wrio. Take a deep breath, please." He stares at you for a moment, doing as you suggested. You offer a small smile, "There aren't many rooms left, they've gotta be here."

"I know," he sighs, running a hand through his messy hair, "but we're running out of time."

Just as he says that the building rumbles and shakes, the sound of a pipe bursting in the distance sending fear through your body. All it takes is a shared look for you two to start running again, eyes and ears sharp as you try to catch even the slightest signs of life.

There were only two rooms left to check when you heard a call, not by a Melusine but by a pair of inmates. Turning to look, your stress levels spike.

“Shit, this isn’t good,” Wriothesley mutters, surveying the situation the moment you both made it over. One of the inmates was trapped underneath a metal panel, and his buddy wasn’t strong enough to lift it off him on his own.

They plead for help and you can see the cool grey eyes of your lover start to unfocus, a million thoughts passing through his mind. Time is running out, and as he's internally about to lose his cool the sound of your voice brings him back.

Laying a hand on his shoulder you squeeze firmly, "Listen, how about we split up? You deal with this and I go find the Melusines. We'll be faster that way."

His eyes widen at your proposition, and he doesn't even have to think twice about denying, "Now, hold on just a-!"

Another tremor, and you have to harden your tone to get your point across, “We don’t have time Wriothesley, help them and I’ll search the two rooms. When you’re done get them out of here, I won’t be far behind!”

He wants to say no, wants you to get to the surface and he'll take care of the inmate and missing Melusines, but as he looks at the crumbling Fortress he finds himself biting his lips before nodding. "You better stay safe, or else."

You smile, turning and disappearing into the second last room. A quick search proves nothing and when you leave you see your husband beginning to pull out the stuck inmate. You're able to meet gazes for a moment only to break it off, rushing into the last room.

It's easy to spot the brightly coloured blue beings amongst the dreary Fortress walls. "Thank Archons!" You sigh, almost tripping over your feet in your hurry to get them, scooping them up in your arms, "we have to go now you two!"

There's a groan of metal and the clatter of something collapsing in the distance, and it's safe to say you didn't waste time sprinting out of there. As you pass where you last saw your husband, there's a momentary wave of relief at seeing him no longer lingering there. You know then that he's gotten out, and that he's probably waiting anxiously for you.

The thought pushes you to get out faster, jumping over any puddles that have formed or debris. But just because you can jump doesn't mean you can dodge.

One piece then two fell from above, but when you look up dread courses through you upon the realization that a good section of the roof is about to drop. You acted before you could fully think and tossed the two tiny beings in your arms, sprinting just a little faster before leaping yourself. You're glad you managed to throw them out of the collapse zone, but you weren't so lucky, your leg getting trapped from midway to your knee and down under the pile of rubble. All it took was one attempt at tugging your leg out to know it was stuck under there good.

"Go," you pointed in the direction of the exit, immediately beginning to dig yourself out. The least you could do was get them to safety. The Melusines however hesitated, looking at each other before looking at you again. You knew they weren't strong enough to lift anything off you, so you repeated the one-word order, adding that you'd be right behind them.

You hear more than you see them run off, and after a minute of struggling you manage to free yourself, continuing towards the exit.

Wriothesley didn't stick around the entrance, instead busying himself with checking on everyone. If he didn't then he'd go mad and rush back in to get you. As he made another round he spotted the two creatures of the sea clutching onto the Iudex, their heads buried in his neck. If they were safe, then you must've made it out too, right?

Wriothesley gives the order to close the Fortress of Meropide off completely, and he watches unaware as he cages you in. It's only by chance that, once he's almost to the surface, he looks out the window of his escape submarine and through one of the windows of the Fortress. The horror sets in.

Even if it's useless, you stumble and limp up to the glass, banging on it, screaming for him. You're not sure what he'd do though, maybe you just wanted to see him one last time, wanted to tell him you love him, that it's not his fault. You stare at him, tears streaming down your face before turning your back to the ocean and sliding down to the ground.

Even if he can't hear you, you whisper out your love for him, how you'd never hold this against him. You pray to the Archons, to the Traveler, to Neuvillette, to Clorinde to watch over him for you.

You eye the rising water, and to make it just a little more bearable you pretend it's the first time you got Wriothesley to go swimming with you. You had dip your toes in first, as a show that the water wouldn't bite. He wasn't scared of the water, and he knew how to swim; he wasn't ashamed of the scars on his body either. No, he refused to go swimming back then because he didn't want to freeze, and it took you and the trust he placed in your word to tell him the water was perfect.

So, you repeat that same action, imagining Wriothesley is right beside you like that day years ago.

From the water pod, your husband watches frozen as you vanish in an instant, continuing to watch as the water rises until it's above the height of the glass. In that single moment, most of the warmth in his heart vanishes along with you.

"You promised you'd be safe... I trusted you..."

It was the first and last time any prisoner would see the almighty Wriothesley cry out, for he swore sometime later that he'd close off his heart and never let anyone get as close as you did. He knows deep down that's not what you'd want, but he knew he could never go through the same pain again and still continue to live.

———

Zhongli, who you were fighting side by side with.

It's always been like that, you and him up in arms against the world. It was like that in the Archon War, in the Cataclysm and any other time someone threatened the safety of the Lord of Geo's territory. You had his back and he had yours, something that only grew stronger as your relationship developed from war buddies to friends then finally to lovers.

It was... naive of you both to think that you'd be able to spend eternity together without issue. You were too blinded by the fact that you were both going to withstand time and he believed that there was no way he'd fail to protect you, not with the strength he possessed.

Your downfall was not due to time or a lack of strength, but rather your own desire to keep the man you love safe from harm.

Zhongli did not see the sword pierce your skin, but he did hear the strangled cry you let out. He felt the fear wash over him, he saw the bloody aftermath as you fell forward into him, no longer able to hold yourself upright.

Instinctively he wraps his arms around you, sinking to the grass with you. Crimson stains his hands and clothes fast as if the wound was his own and he knows right then that your time together is limited.

The pain you feel is searing and with each breath you take you're fighting to keep that air in your lungs long enough to get more. Your husband spoke softly as he stroked your shoulder, "Why did you take the hit for me?"

When you looked up into his warm, amber eyes you knew then that this was the last time he'd hold you, the last time you'd speak with one another. How interesting it is that you both realized at different points that this was the end.

"You..." you cough, body trembling in his hold and Zhongli almost regrets asking you to speak. He just wants to make you comfortable in your last moments, to act as if everything is okay. "You... were going to get hurt."

The man you knew to never weep lets a single tear slide down his face, a light chuckle getting stuck in his throat, "ah, how like you to put me above yourself. I'm the same way with you, so I suppose I can't point fingers, now can I?"

“No… you can’t,” you smile back, but it’s tough to force it through the pain. You cough again and this time a little blood comes up as well.

It’s getting harder and harder to breathe as the seconds tick by. “Morax.”

The former Archon stiffens; you rarely ever call him by his real name unless you're serious about something. "Yes, my dear? What is it?" When he sees you trying to lift your hand to his cheek, Zhongli dips his head, placing his own hand over yours.

Glazed eyes watch as you swallow, stuttering on your own breath, "I'm... I'm very proud of the man you've become compared to the Archon I first met. I'm very proud of the things you've done for Liyue, and I'm grateful for the things you've done for me."

Your eyes droop a little, and he knows your time to depart is near when he sees you rest your head against him more and with the way he has to hold up your hand for it to stay resting on his cheek. He swears he won't let you slip away until you've said your final peace.

"I... I need you to promise me something Morax."

"You know I will always do my best to honour your wishes," he tells you, his grip tightening on your hand. A sudden breeze picks up, blowing his hair in such an elegant way that your face softens, never not amazed by his beauty. Tranquillity washes over you, and it may sound crazy, but the scent the wind brought to you smelt like home, like a simpler time in your life.

All other sounds are drowned out, the wind blowing them far away so he could hear you clearly, "You have to find happiness again... even though I won't be there for you. Can... can you promise me that?"

He pulls you impossibly closer, removing your hand just to place a gentle kiss on your palm before returning it to its place, "I promise." In that moment he feels like he's lied to you, for he believes he'll never truly recover from your death, but that doesn't mean he won't try for you. And as you smile up at him for the last time, Morax feels that he could live with his answer to you.

Much like his friends of old, he knows he'll see you in the little things around the city - a lantern, a blooming flower, a cup of tea, the fires in fireplaces - as if you're watching over him. He'll continue to walk forward as everything passes him by, mingling with the ever-changing people and culture and surrounding himself with friends, because that's what he promised you, and he wants you to see that even when you're not by his side to experience it yourself.

"I'm happy now, see? But I will never be as happy as I was with you"

Tag list (both regular and event exclusive): @spoopy-fish-writes // @that-enby-alien // @xenuuu // @kaeyaloml // @x-zho // @mariposa666haruka // @quackquackmfs // @kunikuzushiii // @genshin-impact-writings // @ventisweetheart // @lordbugs @leena-shi // @ari-the-wr1ter // @xiaos-wife // @milkwithspiceyicecubes // @stygianoir // @francisnyx

@kaiserkisser // @multipleshadesofblue // @moloteco-real // @kithewanderingme // @scaramood

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heavysighing-dreamyeyes · 2 months ago

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Where Home Is

You more or less trick Jason into moving into your apartment ~850 words

For the longest time, Jason didn't have a place to call home. Sure, he had more safehouses than he could count on both hands, but none of them were a home.

He was lucky half the time if his closest place of refuge had a box spring mattress and running water. It never bothered him, not really. It was a side effect of the whole vigilante career, a price he was willing to pay to just get under a roof without having to hike across the city.

And yeah, maybe it would be nicer to have clean, soft blankets to come back to. Maybe it would ease the constant, set tension in his jaw to know what's in his fridge. Maybe not having to guess which safehouse had electricity that week would make his life easier.

But all of that was a luxury he didn't need. Jason didn't need a home, he just needed a place to crash and stitch his wounds until the sky darkened and he could do what he was meant for. Fight the battles that need to be won.

Jason Todd did not need a home.

You've managed to convince him otherwise.

It starts small– you're just the closest place, you have a stocked first aid kit, it made sense to go to you. (He shouldn't have fallen asleep on your couch once he's bandaged and stable, but he doesn't think his nearest safehouse has heat, anyway. So staying had to be the right call that night)

But then he starts to find himself at your window more and more frequently at the end of his patrol, for no particular reason at all.

He doesn't know how or why you do it, how you even manage to convince him, but he goes to you nonetheless, unties his boots at the window and drops his jacket on the back of your arm chair.

At first, it's because you had cookies you wanted him to try, and then it's because you have a book he should pick up tonight because it's just easier if he comes over then.

(It's not, it's four in the morning and he's exhausted and he knows you know that, but he comes anyway and you always get him fall asleep on your couch, again and again)

Logically, Jason shouldn't be so comfortable in your space. Realistically, he shouldn't be sleeping in your apartment, and he most certainly shouldn't be letting you corral him from the couch to your spare bedroom. And he definitely shouldn't be nodding along because you said 'he might as well use it tonight, since no one else is'.

He shouldn't. But he does. And he gets the best night's sleep he's had in years.

Even if sleeping on a mattress that's on a frame and not covered in whatever threadbare blanket he has laying around his safe house means he wakes up without a crick in his back, he shouldn't be indulging in it.

He's taking up your space and your time. Jason tries to make up for it by making breakfast (and restocking your fridge for the trouble), but he doesn't think it exactly evens out.

He reprimands himself every time he leaves the warmth care safety- every time he leaves your home. Yet he always finds himself back in the comfort of your apartment when the sun starts to rise.

It makes him feel guilty. Really, he has so many other places to go, he could camp out nearly anywhere if he had to, but he prefers going to you.

And that's dangerous. That's desperate. And despite his better judgment, he doesn't hate it.

He likes that– no matter how quiet he is– you sleepily pad out of your bedroom to greet him. (How you know he's back, he's never gotten a straight answer)

He likes that you check him over for wounds. He likes that you sit with him if he needs to eat. He likes that you make sure he ends up in the spare bedroom and not the couch. He likes that you pat his arm before wandering, half-awake back to your own bed.

He likes coming home.

The thought startles him, the first time he thinks it, after weeks of letting you convince him to come over for the most mundane reasons– to stay once he caves to your pleas.

And suddenly it's not just your spare bedroom, but his bedroom. It's not just your apartment, but your- and his- home. And the feeling in his chest nearly overwhelms him.

It's the one place he can let his defenses down. The one place where his smiles come freely. The only place he wants to return to when the night ends.

Home. You. (It's synonymous in his mind, and he doesn't quite know what to do with that)

He still has more safehouses than he could ever really use. But Jason Todd only has one home. And it's where his fuzzy red blanket lays thrown haphazardly at the edge of his bed. It's where dinner sits waiting to be reheated in the fridge. It's where a closet has an empty hanger for his jacket to rest.

It's where you wait for him to come back, where you're ready to give him a place to fall, and where he knows he'll land safely if he jumps– or stumbles. (And no amount of distance would ever keep him from making it home, back to you)

#and then he starts paying rent once he officially moves in #and maybe you kiss about it #just thought you should know #jason todd x reader #jason todd #x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd/reader

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diz-eaze · 1 month ago

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THE WAY I LOVE YOU (yandere! genshin women x female reader)

; soft yandere, written in 2023, pre-sumeru pre-fontaine and pre-natlan, manipulation, unhealthy relationships. characters listed; eula, mona, beidou, ganyu, hu tao, ningguang, shenhe, yelan, ayaka, kokomi, ei, yae, lumine, sandrone, arlecchino.

; Yandere drabbles.

MAYBE YOU had just been in the wrong place and at the wrong time. It started out innocently enough, going outside the city on Mondstadt to explore more areas - because there's more to life than just your everyday city, despite how EULA may protest against it. Despite how she claims that staying in Mondstadt is the best choice.

While you certainly do respect Eula, you disagree with her views. You're not someone born to just be limited within a city - you're not.

And so, with Eula's ignorance, you set off into the dark night to venture out into the green fields. Because you'll be fine, you know that. There's going to be hilichurls milling around but it's nothing that you can't handle, hopefully - you'll just run away or hide when you see one, easy enough.

When you do encounter one, your plan to hide crumbled miserably - not knowing there was a twig in your spot, you ended up stepping on it, resulting in a loud crack and thus alerting the nearby hilichurls. Running away from them isn't an option; you're trapped in your supposed hiding spot as the monsters circle around it.

Fighting back is a possibility, but you're so weak - you don't even have a vision, let alone carry around a weapon. So pray to tell, just how exactly can you win against them?

So, you think with acceptance, this is how you die. Disobeying your dear friend Eula only for you to end up getting mauled by the hilichurls - if you weren't in this life-threatening situation, you'd be embarrassed and sheepishly tell her that she'd been right all along. You can't, obviously.

It's useless to be sentimental, to cry - but you still do, feeling great pity for your friend. If you had just been more logical and accepted Eula's protective tendencies - you'd probably still be inside your apartment back in the city and enjoying the cool breeze.

You're not getting out of here alive and Eula is just going to wake up tomorrow to the news of your disappearance and discover your mangled body out in the wild-

In a split second, it seems like your surroundings looked so surreal as you spot blue in the distance - light blue hair, wielding a blue claymore. Blue, blue, blue. Are you hallucinating now? So desperate to live that your mind started conjuring up false images.

Hallucinating or not, you still hope - because it's the last thing you can do in this situation. But when the distant blur of blur gets closer and the features of the person are clearer - it's been made known to you that it is indeed Eula, angry and worried - but still Eula.

Relief floods into your body and you start crying for a different reason, glad to live to see another day. Because Eula is here to save you - to make sure you get back to the city alive and well. Though, one thought pesters in your mind, rolling around and never leaving you,

How had Eula known you went outside the city at night?

Astrology and magic have never been your strong suit. MONA knows that all too well - which is probably more reason as to why she's hellbent on teaching you what she knows about it. From her expensive books that contained teachings on astrology to her directly guiding you throughout the process of hydromancy, Mona doesn't cut corners when it comes to you.

Because in her eyes, maybe if you come to understand the inner workings of fate the way she does - then maybe you'll begin to find reasons behind her abhorrent actions - reasons why she's adamant when it comes to loving you.

But even as of right now, as Mona's hydro vision pulses with life as she uses her scryglass for live demonstration for you - it still stands true, astrology and magic are not your strong suit. It's not like you're imbecilic - you simply just don't find any reason why you'd take up astrology, especially if it's under the wish of Mona.

Still, just to appease her and keep her sated, you entertain the sessions she holds every day. Without a word of complaint or a sound of a groan - you remain compliant and willing because it's the best you can do in your situation.

Eyes focusing on Mona's hydro scryglass, you lazily copy her actions and summon your own. It's pretty, you'll admit - the scryglass. A wonderful gadget that only talented mages can use, you being part of the lucky ones, all thanks to Mona's hard work and dedication in teaching you. In contrast to Mona's blue one, yours is tinted in a different color - a pleasing shade to your eyes, something that lessens the burden of having to sit through her voice for hours on end.

Mona graciously showers you in praise, pride gleaming in her eyes. Then, with expert hands, she taps and maneuvers through the device - knowing it like the back of her hand. She instructs you to perform a basic spell - a transformative one. Turning an apple into another fruit or turning a frog into an inanimate object, it's simple enough.

As if reading off a manual, you follow what she asks - a tap here and there, and with the help of your vision, you turn a piece of paper into a pencil. You vaguely register Mona clapping and huffing in pride, too focused on the result of your spell.

It's so boring to be here and to learn a field that you have no interest in, and as Mona moves on to the next spell - astrology this time, most likely instructing you how to read the fates of other people - you just feel so numb. It's so lifeless to be stuck with Mona.

But like a robot programmed to do what it's told, you follow her instructions without complaint. Time and time again.

Dragging you out of the sweet comfort of your home into the unforgiving seas is BEIDOU's way of showing her love for you - if you can even classify her obsession as that. It's yesterday, you think, when she broke into your house while you were asleep in order to bring you aboard the ship she commands.

You'll love it out here, she boisterously states when you blearily open your eyes - only to be greeted by the sight of a wooden ceiling with Beidou right beside your new bed. This is home now, she says as she gently caresses your cheek. Me and the crew - we're you're new family!

But to be truthful, you'd rather not. Especially after you've been thrown into this predicament with absolutely no remorse for your personal feelings or comfort. In fact, you still haven't completely wrapped your head around reality before Beidou's hasty and swinging your arm to bring you up to the deck - where all her crewmates lie.

There, she introduces you as her lover. Despite your attempts to butt in and correct her, it's all drowned out by the sounds of the crewmates whooping and hollering - many congratulations are offered to Beidou, it seems that they weren't aware that she had a lover before all of this (even now, she still don't have one - you are not her lover, no matter how much she says so).

After the hype around you being introduced as her lover dies down, Beidou takes initiative to introduce you to each of her crew. And after that, I'll tour you around! - she said, tightly clinging onto your waist and not letting go.

The first you meet is Kazuha, a runaway from Inazuma who decided to stay aboard even after things have settled in his homeland. He's a sweet man - poetry and flowery words drip off his tongue like it's nothing and it brings you a sense of flattery when he earnestly compliments your features. A fact that Beidou takes notice of, as before you knew it, you're whisked away to meet another crewmate - Kazuha fading into the background.

You meet Furong, Sea Drake, and Xu Liushi who are all sailors. Huixing is a navigator and Suling is an ironworker. There are others but their names are only at the tip of your tongue - there but not enough for you to remember clearly.

True to her words, Beidou shortly takes you on a tour around the ship after you've met all of the people aboard. She speaks with enthusiasm and so much joy the whole time that you find yourself being envious of her, wishing that you can be happy even in your current situation.

But you're not. Not when you're here against your will - not when you didn't want to cruise the seas at all. You preferred your quaint apartment back in Liyue harbor than this rocky life as some 'lover' to the captain of the Alcor.

Day offs are rare enough for GANYU, considering her position as secretary and unhealthy work schedule - a complete workaholic, after all. But on the rare occasions where she's granted one, Ganyu makes sure to spend her free time with you. Nothing else.

It doesn't matter if the day is mundane or eventful - such fickle things don't matter to Ganyu, as long as you're there it's more than enough.

Though, it seems that Ganyu wanted to take you out into the harbor for her day off. It's a date, she bashfully tells you when you inquired about it. And so, with a muted sigh, you go inside your room to look for appropriate clothing, seeing as it's an important occasion.

It saddens you a bit at how being able to go outside is now a rare occurrence, but you force yourself to not linger on it too much, Think happy thoughts, think happy thoughts - you repeat in your head.

After you pick out a dress - cute and quaint, something that you know Ganyu would enjoy (but she insists that she'll enjoy any outfit that you're wearing, regardless of style), you look for jewelry to match - making sure to pick stones and jewels that suits the blue that Ganyu's hair possesses (It'll please her, you would know).

Because you're not doing this for you, you're doing this for her.

And when you slide the door open, greeted by the sight of Ganyu's awed expression and amazed eyes, you simply smile and thank her (as you have done many times before). She stumbles over, with flushed cheeks and fumbling fingers, to hold your hand - eager to explore the harbor with you by her side, a pretty eye candy.

You giggle at her enthusiasm (A bit too forced than you'd like), and the two of you make your way to the harbor - making idle talk along the way.

This won't be the first time you visit the harbor, but it's been a while. A whole century, if you remember correctly.

After all, the very thing that made Ganyu so attached to you in the first place was your immortality. Someone that can stay by her slides for centuries to come - a person who she doesn't have to fear mortality with.

A perfect fit for her, she'd claim.

During the nighttime, it's normal for the entire city to be sound asleep - with the few exceptions of the millelith on night duty and those who simply have no need to. And at this point, you'd be off to dreamland too, if not for HU TAO, who had persistently dragged you off to Wuhang Hill.

If the two of you were ordinary citizens, it would probably take hours before you'd arrive at the aforementioned destination because of monsters and the like. But as vision bearers, a divine gift from the gods, it was nothing but mere exercise. And so, within an hour or two, you've arrived at the very top - where the creepy forest resides.

Earlier, Hu Tao had joked about her hand being free for you to hold in case you get scared (and you responded by kindly flipping her off), but as you gaze around the mist-heavy forest, you think you'll take her up on that offer. While you're on the edge of being jumpscared by the mere sound of a twig snapping, Hu Tao is at full ease - shoulders drooped and posture relaxed.

"Tao, Why are we even here?" But what you wanted to ask yourself was why did you even agree in the first place?

"Why not?" Comes Hu Tao's lax response, arms crossed behind her head as she mills around the place like she owns it.

You don't reply, unimpressed with her answer. Sensing your displeased attitude, Hu Tao cackles and grabs your shoulders in assurance. "I'm kidding! I'm kidding, We're here to explore, what else?"

"Explore what?" You retort, letting your body get pushed around by her.

"This," Hu Tao gestures to the forest around the two of you. "Duh!"

"Okay," You give in. "Lead the way, miss Hu."

Hu Tao giggles at your words (the sound is nice, you think) and boldly grabs your hand to intertwine with yours. Before you can ask, she beats you to it. "It's so you don't get lost, dummy."

Her hand fits into yours like a perfect puzzle piece (like you're made for her and she's made for you), and you try your best to ignore the way your heart races just thinking about it.

Forcing yourself to stop thinking about it, you smile at Hu Tao and ask her what she's gonna tour to you. It's a secret, she shushes you. So you do - you stay silent and follow where she'll lead you.

"Just make sure you make it quick, Tao." You quietly remind her. "I have plans tomorrow."

She knows, but she can't say it to your face - lest you find out about her stalking you to know your schedule. So Hu Tao grins and nods, grip tightening ever so slowly.

"I will! Don't worry, (Y/N)."

NINGGUANG places a hairpin on the crown of your head; it's a pretty accessory - the hairpin. Designed to imitate a glaze lily and holds the same beauty as the authentic item, it's almost impossible to differentiate the two, if not for the translucent material that the hairpin possesses. The material makes it glitter marvelously under the sunlight and only adds a dreamy gleam when decorated on your tresses.

"A pretty flower for a pretty thing." Ningguang remarks after she's finished securing the piece onto your hair, dainty and perfectly placed - as expected of her. You're sitting on a chair in front of her vanity, all of which screams expensive, bare as the day you were born. She studies your face for a few more seconds before moving on.

The next item to graze your precious skin is a necklace studded in the finest noctilucous jade - the ones that are mined with utmost precision and expertise, all at the order of the tianquan herself. You wouldn't be surprised either if this was custom-made, commissioned to be a glorified collar of yours - an item you will rarely take off and an item meant to symbolize the tianquan's ownership of you.

Still, you smile and thank her earnestly. It's what she taught you, after all.

Ningguang accepts your gratitude with a mirthful chuckle, opting to focus more on her fingers that were faintly tracing along your bare collarbones. Her touch is featherlight and it gives you shivers. After a moment, Ningguang leans in to kiss your lips - her lips are soft and yours are, too. You can still faintly taste the tobacco on her lips, most likely because of her smoking pipe.

For a while, the two of you stay like that - Ningguang savoring your lips as if they were candy and you taking it all, naked with nothing but a glaze lily hairpin and noctilucous jade necklace graced on your body. Ningguang's lips parted from yours slowly (a string of saliva present), maintaining eye contact with you all throughout - the intensity of her red eyes tempts you to look away, but you can't.

So you watch with bated breath as Ningguang wipes away the drool that's close to dripping off your lips.

She leans back soon enough, straying from you for a moment to look for the next item that's blessed enough to be decorated on your body. She comes back, her dainty fingers holding onto two matching sango pearl bracelets, one for each of your hands.

Without command, you hold out your wrists for her to clasp the bracelet on. She does so with such gentleness that it almost hurts, such care that it makes your eyes water - because you've never been loved so thoroughly as Ningguang has before.

Ningguang shushes you because your tears shan't fall for such a measly reason. For her, you deserve to be loved with every fiber of her being, and who would she be if she didn't fulfill that promise?

Prior to meeting you, SHENHE had always thought that she'd never fit into the human world as an adepti-raised mortal. The red ropes that bind her murderous intentions also bind her emotions as a whole - making her a somewhat blank slate of a human. It doesn't mean Shenhe cannot and does not experience emotions - she does, albeit. rarely.

But after Shenhe was blessed to encounter you for the first time, she finally understands what it means to be mortal - to love like one, and to care like one - or at least she thinks so. It's a bit unsettling, how despite the red ropes that bind her homicidal tendencies, some of them are able to bypass such adepti technic, all because of the strong urge to protect you like no other.

You're like a ray of light in Shenhe's bleak world, one that's filled with meditation on top of the mountains and maintaining to control her urges - all of which are repetitive and tedious, but she must, for the better. After meeting you, it opened up a whole new experience for her - the want to accompany you in the harbor, the longing to hold your hand (or maybe give it a quick peck), and the spark in her chest that erupts every time you so much as to smile at her.

You're addicting, Shenhe thinks. A sweet source of dopamine and serotonin - all for her to consume and devour like a man starved.

Sometimes, when you're too busy with life to invite Shenhe to hang out, she takes it upon herself to monitor your movement and watch your day as you mingle about - trying to bury the urge to slam the man down the concrete who previously flirted with you (patience is a virtue and it would be best to strike when there are no witnesses around).

Shene follows you from a distance, not too far to not see you and not too close to be detected - she's self-aware enough that you would not take it kindly if you were to discover the acts that she's been committing, such as stalking and murder. Not that she plans on stopping, she simply worries at the prospect of you distancing yourself from her - which would no doubt break her heart.

So, with skilled precision, Shenhe continues to follow you - remaining undetected with such ease that it's almost unfair.

She's doing this all for you, the love of her life.

Every high-ranking member of the society within the Liyue harbor knows that the Yanshang teahouse is actually a casino, a discreet establishment that only operates during the nighttime - where the gamblers come to life, ready to take on anyone that dares to. And as the owner, YELAN is obliged to indulge in the games that her own casino offers - all while you stick by her side like the good housewife that you are.

Every time you pass by those that occupy the casino, you're always met with curious glances and stupefied stares - Yelan wouldn't blame them, she knows you're a beauty and it's her job to ensure that the clothes and jewelry you're wearing tonight only amplifies this. It's not a crime to show off your significant other, after all.

The dress you're wearing is revealing, beautiful and tantalizing - all for her to undress when the time comes later in the night. It's a color that perfectly complements your (Hair color) hair and (Eye color) eyes, it's so you. The pieces of jewelry hanging off your body only adds more sparkle and expense to your charm - unaffordable to anyone else in the casino, save for Yelan.

But when some stare longer than she'd like, Yelan would bring you closer to her side - hands gripping onto your waist ever so tightly. She's a possessive lover, one that loves to show off - but still possessive nonetheless.

Soon, she settles down for a bit to play a quick game of poker - making sure that you sit down in her lap like the pretty eye candy that you're meant to be. Yelan is lax throughout the entire ordeal, never once letting up on her poker face, and when she inevitably wins - she gives an easy smile before collecting her prize and whisking you away, too.

You see the enraged face of her defeated opponents, though you say nothing. Whatever enemies and allies Yelan makes is none of your business, you're here to sit still and look pretty - not to blabber and annoy. This is something that she drilled into your pretty, empty head - back when your relationship was forced and loveless on your part (now, it's not much different, save for your newfound acting skills).

What she does is none of your business, Yelan is the moneymaker in your relationship - the one that works to bring home money to her adorable wife. While you, as the pretty housewife, is tasked to prepare her delicious homecooked meals and a loving embrace to come home to.

It doesn't matter that you, too, wanted to have a normal job. What Yelan wants, you oblige.

It's always been that way.

Usually, AYAKA would be the one who had an audience. It's her that has eyes all focused on. It's her that catches their captivation. But right now, the star of the show isn't her.

It's you.

You, dancing on the water and defying its properties with your vision. You, dressed in an intricately designed garb for this performance. You, looking as ethereal as the day she first laid her eyes on. You, who moves with grace and practice that only experienced performers could do.

You, you, you.

Ayaka watches with bated breath, utterly hypnotized with everything you do - like she was just a puppet on a string, and you, her puppeteer. She likes to think that during your performances, it's just you and her - no one else.

Just the two of you, entrapped in your own little bubble with no outside disturbances.

Of course, that thought is quick to crumble when your performance ends and the entire audience begins to clap, reminding Ayaka that other people get to see you, too.

Acknowledging it leaves a bitter taste on her tongue, denial, and jealousy mixing together like a perfect combination. She knows she has no right to act, let alone feel, like this - you aren't hers (as much as she wants it) and she isn't yours.

Really, Ayaka doubts you even knew her. Your relationship with her is nothing but a performer and a watcher. Nothing more.

(She hates it.)

But she can't just admit defeat like this, can she? Ayaka is a Kamisato, a noble family in Inazuma. Surely, with enough of a push, you'll come to her if she used her influence, no?

And she'll welcome you with open arms, too. Then, your performances will only be limited to her eyes and hers only - no one else within the audience as you dance and sing around for her.

Just like how it should be.

She'll even be the one to wake you up every morning, the one to dress you up and usher you to the dining room. No servant within the Kamisato estate deserves to see you bare and pretty - no, that sight should just be reserved for only her.

And maybe, somewhere down the line, she'll court you to earn your hand in marriage - just like what the fairytales do.

As the divine priestess of the Watatsumi island and tactician, KOKOMI holds a myriad of responsibilities, resulting in her work piling up with each day. From the complaints of citizens to negotiations with the shogun's army - Kokomi handles it all, with grace.

And with so many responsibilities to hold, Kokomi is bound to be burdened with stress. But, she doesn't mind.

Not when her cute stress reliever is you, after all.

There are countless actions she can command you to do and you'd do so in a heartbeat, but Kokomi finds that making you read aloud to her is the best.

Books read by your precious voice are a blessing to her ears. The genre of the book itself does not matter, whether it be a cheesy romance novel or a dictionary, anything you read is bound to be amazing - it's you.

So, with her head laid in your lap, and you preparing to begin reading a novel - Kokomi's accumulated stress from the week can already be felt vanishing.

"What novel is that, love?" Kokomi's soft voice questions, fingers lightly tracing the spine of the book.

You don't respond, choosing to read aloud instead.

The plane of euthymia unsettles you - EI knows that. But that doesn't stop her from forcefully keeping you within while the puppet handles the outside affairs, leading to Ei devoid of any disturbances and worries. Just her and you. As it always should.

The place is bleak and suffocating - the red hurts your eyes and the atmosphere is downright depressing, you wonder how Ei can live like this. To lock herself up and spend centuries meditating inside this plane - unlike you, who can't stand being here any longer.

You don't want to be here, you made it known from the very start. And yet, like a persistent bug, Ei ignores it in favor of meditating while you're within her eyesight - safe from any threats and dangers, or so she claims.

Yet, you don't have a choice - much less stand a chance against Ei when it comes to confrontation. What can you, a measly human, do in face of an archon?

As distasteful it is to admit, nothing.

It's best you keep your mouth shut and indulge Ei on her whims, lest you anger the god of eternity.

Grand narukami shrine is, well, grand. The exterior of the place is nothing short of breathtaking - the way the buildings were structured so intricately and the shrine maidens out and about only add a comforting air to the place. Not to mention the sacred sakura tree that's shaped into a fox - no doubt well taken care of by YAE.

For all this beauty and pleasing view from the top, it does not quench your longing to venture past this mountain - to experience more of Inazuma than what this place has to offer. Of course, the head priestess is opposed to that, for she condescendingly tells you that such musings bring nothing but demise to your life. Don't you know? The outside world is nothing short of traumatising, you're better off staying here - where your dear protector can keep you safe.

You protest and protest against her for what it's worth yet you're shot down each and every single time - Yae is always ready with a convenient excuse to tell you off. It's frustrating, to be treated like you know nothing better and that you're a dumb, stupid woman when you're clearly much more than that.

But every time you get the strength to potentially fight back against her, Yae's mischievous attitude crumbles apart - in place a stern facial expression that dares you to oppose against her - her, who is your lifeline. Her, who so graciously saved you from a life of poverty by letting you work for the grand narukami shrine. Her, who loves you as no one else will.

Yae supposes that she spoiled you too much. Maybe it's time for punishment? To remind you of your place.

Despite it all, you're grateful for the way LUMINE lets you travel around Teyvat - as long as you're with her, of course. It could be worse, you know. You've seen the way other people aren't allowed past the borders of their nation, sometimes even the comforts of their homes - you pity people like that. You truly do.

Paimon stays silent about the nature of your relationship, which is probably for the best (much to your chagrin). For a terrible liar, so far Paimon has been nothing but amazing in keeping her mouth silent - unlike her usual blabber mouth-self.

The first time Lumine took you to Mondstadt, she had introduced you there as her lover. Sweet and loving, is what your relationship appeared to the public eye with Paimon there to back it up. Still, the scope of green fields lessened your devastation to the situation - bringing comfort, even if just a little bit.

Liyue was eye-catching, the harbor built upon intricate buildings and rich history. Lumine toured you around where the population was at its peak - resulting in many curious eyes wondering just who you were to the savior of Liyue. A lover, perhaps?

You weren't able to enter Inazuma, not after the sakoku decree was lifted. Lumine told you the atmosphere was much more grim and cold when she first arrived, as opposed to the lively people and foreigners now plaguing the streets. She brought you along for the Irodori festival, where she made sure to conceal you from prying eyes - afraid that others would take a liking to you.

Yes, despite it all - no matter how suffocating her love is - you're truly grateful for the way Lumine lets you roam free. Or as free as you can be under her tight grip.

SANDRONE is known for her unpredictable outbursts - something that's more prone whenever you're involved. For this reason, the Fatui recruits make sure to distance themselves far away from you in order to not invoke the wrath of the marionette.

Unfortunately, not every underling can get the unspoken rule immediately - leading to dire mistakes so early on in their lives. How unfortunate - not that you can be of any help to them.

Especially when you're given a front-row seat by yours truly, where you're given a perfect view of just how she can turn this supposedly hideous man into an even more unsightly doll.

In the beginning, you vehemently protested - thrashed, shook, and pleaded for her to have an ounce of mercy. Though, now, you know better and choose to keep silent - blankly staring ahead with no visible emotion on your face.

When the scissors come into contact with the man's collarbone, ripping a scream out of his throat, you know that the show has begun.

It's only a matter of time until the poor Fatui recruit is transformed into a doll. Or a corpse, if Sandrone was feeling generous.

ou don't like children. That much you relayed to ARLECCHINO on your first meeting. At that time, she simply nodded her head and continued on with finishing her meal. Back then, when the two of you had only met - neither of you was aware of what would spiral down with this relationship.

Looking back at it now, you wished you never met the knave. Since it lead to where you are now, taking care of the orphans like you're someone being paid to do so - when in reality it's just Arlecchino wanting some sick version of play house.

But, you sigh and continue on with taking care of the countless children that the house of hearth houses. Endure, endure, endure - you tell yourself this every day, you'll break free from her soon enough. You can't stay here forever, it's illogical.

Or at least, you hope so.

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blueteller · 9 months ago

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You know... I often think about the fact that out of all events in TCF? Rescuing Raon was the most important.

It wasn't just because Cale got himself a "Draco Ex Machina" at his side that could use OP magic at his convenience. He could have used tools or Rosalyn's magic instead, at the beginning at least. We saw how he planned ahead and used an enchanted tool to make Taylor and Cage invisible to sneak them into the capital.

It wasn't just because through Raon, Cale was able to make connection with Eruhaben and later Sheritt and many other Dragons. They were important for their victory, but Cale could have gotten in contact with them through other ways – Pendrick, for example.

It wasn't just because Raon could detect things like dead mana or magical traps and disguises – even if Rosalyn wouldn't be able to, Cale would have probably figured out Alberu's connection to Dark Elves sooner or later. He already had suspicions about "a secret to his birth" before Raon mentioned the dyed hair.

Yes, those thing mattered, don't get me wrong. But, out of all the changes Cale made after his transmigration – saving Raon was the event that truly changed the whole game... not for the world, but for Cale himself.

Raon was, in many instances, the pushing force behind Cale's motivation to participate in various events. Slacker life? Cale's wishful thinking. But the motivation to actively get people involved – like Mary, for example. Raon was the one who cheered Cale on, kept him company through everything, especially the tough times. Raon was the one who, along with On and Hong, melted Cale's heart the fastest, getting this stubborn, traumatized man to admit they were "family". It's not that he wouldn't be a good man doing good things without Raon; but without Raon he would be in a lot more denial (even more than he already is!!) about why he is doing such things.

Raon represents everything Cale loves about his new life. The joy, the hope for the future, the curiosity and enthusiasm. Yes Cale often acts tired of (or freaks out over) Raon's antics or pretends to ignore him. But in the end... he never actually does. Cale never stops paying attention to him or tells him to go away.

Raon was the one who truly "got under his skin", so to speak. Cale wholeheartedly trusts and respects Raon. Of course, Raon is still a child under his protection... The reason why Cale always insisted on him staying hidden, throughout most of their adventures. I remember the moment Cale got the Dragon Blood Drinking Crown, and his first reaction was "let's throw this away/destroy it". The utter repulsion towards anything that could be a danger to Raon, despite how potentially useful such an artifact could be, logic be damned. Or that moment when they met the White Star for the first time, the villain telling Cale how he would kill the child and feed his heart to him – how Cale outwardly showed terror for the first time in the whole novel, instantly hugging Raon close to him and activating the shield to its fullest.

That's what really gets to me, you know? Raon's protectiveness for Cale is so obvious, but Cale is just as protective of him in return. I truly believe that while all relationships that Cale had shaped him as a person (just like the God of Death stated in his letter to him), the relationship between Cale and Raon is one that shaped them both in equal measure on both sides.

This relationship between them feels like fate, and that's no accident.

Changing Raon's fate was fundamental for saving the world, yes. But it equally important for Cale's own growth. An event which happened right at the beginning on the story, shaped the course of the entire future.

#tcf #trash of the count's family #lcf #lout of count's family #tcf meta #analysis #tcf analysis #cale henituse #cale #tcf cale #raon #raon miru #raon mir

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airplanelanding · 1 month ago

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Shen Yuan hated doctors. When he was a kid, he hated them because they were scary and always wanted to give him shots. Then, he got older, learned a bit more, grew a bit more, and found himself growing more neutral on them. They were a necessary evil.

Then, he fainted for the first time at seventeen, on his way home from exams.

After that, his life became nothing but doctors and tests and new medications. Each appointment made his resentment grow stronger. Every time, it was just a new doctor finding a new way to say he'd be sick for the rest of his life, the only treatment for his condition being lifestyle changes for symptom management and various attempts at medications that had a fifty-fifty chance of working or making him feel worse.

He grew tired as the years passed and his condition steadily grew worse. Symptoms and flare-ups that used to occur a few times a month, turned into a few times a week, turned into nearly every day. Things he used to do with ease turned into distant memories. Sports, dance, martial arts... Even grocery shopping, he found difficult by the time he was 24, the extended period of time on his feet and walking around something he was unable to handle anymore.

The minimization of his pain and suffering and struggling by doctors only made his resentment grow tenfold. "It's not that serious," or "it's not life-threatening," or a plethora of other ways they would minimize his illness, as if he didn't go from the Darling of the Shen's in Higher Society to a rumored recluse who didn't even leave his home to eat. As if he hadn't been forced to.

And sure, that resentment didn't just remain contained to being aimed at the doctors who never took him seriously and told him to just drink more water and exercise better, but Shen Yuan had little else to do anymore. So, he went online, he fell too far, and he became the infamous Peerless Cucumber. So what? Little else brought him joy anymore, gave him reason to live anymore. So what if he was a bitch to some shitty author?

He would forever defend his actions and words against the crime against literature that was Proud Immortal Demon Way.

He knows his logic is flawed. He had anger pent up for so long and he let it out against an un-involved source. In his defense, PIDW really was fucking terrible.

That's not the point here. The point is, Shen Yuan hated doctors. He hated them. And now, living as Shen Qingqiu -- given another chance at life only to fuck it up and get poisoned by Without-a-Cure -- he finds himself trying very, very hard to give Mu Qingfang the grace he never gave his doctors as Shen Yuan, and not fire undeserved vitriol his way despite the way the original owner of his body would have without a second thought.

Even now, as he sits on an overly familiar infirmary bed as Mu Qingfang stares at him with that overly familiar look of exasperation and concern, he reigns in the frustration simmering under his skin.

He bites the inside of his cheek and avoids worrisome eyes.

"Shen-shixiong pushed himself too far, again," Mu Qingfang says lightly, with careful, deliberate intonation.

It takes a painful amount of self-control and restraint not to scream.

He thought he was over this! He thought this was done! He left being sick, being weak, in his past life and still, still it fucking finds him again and haunts him.

Instead of screaming, he huffs through his nose.

Mu Qingfang frowns.

"If Mu-shidi could simply provide this shixiong with his prescription, this one would be most grateful," Shen Qingqiu says, with a tone so sickeningly polite it couldn't even begin to be mistaken for sincere. In his lap, his hands grip his closed fan with whitened knuckles.

"The medicine is not an end-all-be-all for your symptoms, Shixiong," Mu Qingfang sighs. "It can only do so much, you still must take care of yourself alongside it's use..."

Despite his words, he still summons his Head Disciple and passes along the prescription refill order to her, to take off to the greenhouse where it will be formulated and portioned out in the necessary doses.

"You should have come to me sooner if you were out," Mu Qingfang chides.

Shen Qingqiu does not deny this. Still, he argues, more childish than elegant. "Mu-shidi has been busy as of late with the illness spreading in town."

"I didn't know Shixiong was so selfless," Mu Qingfang replies, with the faintest hint of sass in his tone, "to ignore his own declining health in favor of the masses, which this one's disciples are more than capable of taking care of."

Shen Qingqiu purses his lips, but says no more. Mu Qingfang reaches for his wrist, and he wordlessly provides it.

After a moment, a soft sigh falls from the physician's lips.

"How long has it been since Liu-shixiong cleared your meridians?" he asks.

He already knows the answer, he's merely giving Shen Qingqiu a chance at honesty.

Shen Qingqiu does not take it.

"Let me guess, he is too busy, as well?" Mu Qingfang raises a pointed eyebrow. "Perhaps this one should go and find him, ask him if he is truly so busy as to neglect his duties to his Shixiong."

"You've made your point," Shen Qingqiu finally snaps, and his words come out harsher than he means them to. A little bit of that sharp, venomous vitriol spits out, frustration and resentment bubbling over the surface before he quickly tamps it back down and takes a breath. Calmer, he repeats, "you've made your point, Mu-shidi. This one will do better in future."

For what it's worth, Mu Qingfang appears to take no offense from his shixiong's sharp-edged strike.

"I surely do hope you mean that," he says softly. It makes Shen Qingqiu's chest grow heavy with a strange sort of guilt, the gentleness with which Mu Qingfang speaks those words. He can only avert his eyes and let his tense shoulders sag.

It is only then, once his defenses have dropped even minutely, that Mu Qingfang finally sets to work.

Cool qi pours into his meridians, but it is not uncomfortable or invasive like one may think. Instead, with it comes an unusual sense of comfort, relief, and refreshment. Like a drink of cold, crisp water at 3am after a nightmare that startled him awake.

Mu Qingfang's spiritual energy rarely feels like the foreign presence it is in his veins.

Never would Shen Qingqiu admit that out loud, though. Not even Liu Qingge's qi could bring him this level of comfort during their usual cleansing sessions. It is familiar and warm, but utterly different from Mu Qingfang's.

Not to mention, the precision with which Mu Qingfang navigates his spiritual veins, untangling and unblocking each point with little trouble. He struggles here and there, at the more aggravated spots, of course. Still, never once does Shen Qingqiu find himself in a place of discomfort.

It's hard, when Mu Qingfang finally finishes his treatment and retracts his qi and hand, to not slump down from the sheer relief Shen Qingqiu feels. His body is lighter, his breath comes easier -- hell, even his vision feels clearer. Mu Qingfang takes a step back and Shen Qingqiu allows himself the inelegance of stretching out his no longer aching limbs.

Mu Qingfang has seen him in worse states, a little relieved stretching is nothing to blink at. Once he's satisfied, Shen Qingqiu sits up straight on the infirmary bed and looks across the room, away from Mu Qingfang.

"Thanking Mu-shidi for his aid," he murmurs.

Mu Qingfang hums. Just then, his Head Disciple returns with his medication. Mu Qingfang accepts it from her with a few quiet words, before sending her back off to attend to the patients in her wing.

"This should last you longer than the last batch," Mu Qingfang tells him as he passes over the medicinal tea. "So you don't find yourself in another difficult position, should you be off the mountain when you typically begin to run low."

Shen Qingqiu accepts the prescription silently, his brows furrowed.

"Likewise this shidi will begin preparations for Shixiong's next batch early, so it will already be ready for delivery by the time you need it." Mu Qingfang pauses, hesitates. "Unless, Shixiong feels that this shidi is being too over-bearing?"

Ah, does his throat feel a little tight? Shen Qingqiu swallows thickly and exhales, staring at the small box of tea. He shakes his head once, almost imperceptibly.

"That is...acceptable," he mutters.

He does not need to look at Mu Qingfang to know he is smiling.

Shen Yuan hated doctors. Shen Qingqiu still hates doctors.

Mu Qingfang, however...

Yes, he can be infuriating at times, and a little patronizing even if he doesn't mean to be -- but that's just it. He doesn't mean it. He cares.

That's it. That's the difference. He wants to help not because it is his job, but because he cares about Shen Qingqiu. And yes, it was a long time before he was able to, but Shen Qingqiu can admit that now. Just like...just like he can admit the existence of the warmth that spreads over his chest when he sees Mu Qingfang's eyes crinkle with a smile just because Shen Qingqiu has finally let him take care of him.

He hates doctors, but Mu Qingfang is not just a doctor. He never has, and never will be, just a doctor.

Shen Qingqiu thanks him once more and takes his leave from the infirmary room, heart pounding against his ribs in a way he wishes deeply he could still ignore. Too many gentle, tender touches and quiet murmurs of concern have beat the ignorance out of him.

Ah, maybe one day, when he learns how to stop being a coward, he won't be just a shidi, either...

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fandoms-x-reader · 3 months ago

Text

Addictive Reading

Satan x Fem!Reader Word Count: 5,088 Warning: NSFW

Satan stared at you in awe as you sat there in his bed, wearing his sweater. Your hair fell effortlessly and your eyes had a natural sparkle to them. You looked so perfect without even trying to.

You graciously ate the breakfast Satan had made you with a content smile on your face. You looked up and noticed him staring at you. A small blush coated your cheeks as you asked, “What?”

Satan smiled softly at you before replying, “I can’t get over how a few months ago, I wanted to learn your name, and now you’re having breakfast with me in my sweater.”

From the moment you set foot inside the House of Lamentation, Satan had taken an interest in you. You were just a shy human who had her entire life turned upside down when you were randomly chosen to take part in the demon exchange program. He sympathized for you - he couldn’t even imagine what that would be like.

Sympathy.

Satan couldn’t remember ever having that feeling in his life before he met you. He read about it in his numerous fictional novels, but he never truly understood what it would feel like until he met you. In fact, the only feeling he had truly ever known was wrath. Then you came along and he was suddenly feeling things he never thought were possible.

He didn’t introduce himself to you right away. He kept his distance and studied you, trying to understand what made you so special. He concluded that there had to be a logical reason as to why you had everyone fawning over you. But, the more he stayed away, the less he wanted to; and, eventually it was no longer an option.

You were in the library of RAD, searching for a book when you noticed Satan staring at you. You gave him a smile and he felt his heart skip a beat. Did you just smile at…him? His mind was telling him not to approach you, but his feet had a mission of their own.

You noticed him standing next to you, and your smile returned to your face. “Oh, hey, you’re Satan, right?” you asked him. This was the first time the two of you were talking to each other despite you living in the House with him. Satan was taken aback by the way your voice sounded. He had heard you talking to his brothers; but, for some reason, it sounded so much sweeter when it was directed towards him.

He managed to nod his head in response and you continued to say, “I’m Y/N.” “I know,” Satan replied. A slight blush coated your cheeks as you told him, “Right. I guess everyone knows about the human exchange students.”

“Especially when they live with you,” he added, making you laugh. It was a small laugh, nothing special. But it was like music to his ears, and he was determined to make you laugh again. “Are you looking for a book?” he asked, his attention turning towards the shelf you were standing in front of.

“Yeah, the Devildom has so many interesting books. They’re completely different from the human world’s,” you replied. “Really?” Satan asked, genuinely curious. He assumed the books between both realms would have been the same.

He reached his hand up and pulled a book off the shelf, handing it to you. You took it and read the title, before flipping the book over and reading the small summary on the back. You were already invested just from the few sentences that were written there. “Thank you, I can’t wait to read it,” you told him, flashing him a smile that melted his heart.

You turned towards the librarian desk and started walking to go check out the book. Satan opened his mouth to say something - anything - to keep you talking to him for a while longer. But, you were already at the desk, talking to the librarian.

He watched with a bit of disappointment as she finished checking you out. If only he had thought of something else to say. Then, you turned towards him again and approached him. He immediately straightened as he watched you walk towards him, a glimmer in your eyes.

“Are you heading back to the House?” you asked. He had planned to stay and read for a bit, but this was an opportunity he wasn’t going to miss out on.

“Yes,” he replied and your smile widened. “I have some human books there if you want to borrow them,” you offered and Satan’s eyes lit up. “Thank you,” he replied. You nodded your head and the two of you began walking back to the House together.

There was a bit of side talk, but nothing special. He wasn’t quite sure how to interact with you yet. The only interactions he had in his life were with demons.

You got to the House and you led Satan up to your room. It was weird for him to be in there. His brothers adored the room, often spending their time in there with you. But, this was the first time he had ever set foot in there. You disappeared further into your room for a moment before returning to him with a book in your hands.

You offered it to him, telling him, “This is one of my favorites.” Satan took the book carefully, as if touching it the wrong way would cause it to spontaneously combust. He read the title, gently brushing his fingers over the words.

“I’ll go start reading it in the library right away,” he replied. “I was actually planning on reading for a bit too. Do you mind if I join you?” you asked him. You had always been interested in getting to know Satan, and you were hoping he wouldn’t turn you down.

Satan looked at you in awe and confusion. This was the first time someone had ever asked to hang out with him, willingly. He took a moment to answer, trying to figure out what it was he was feeling right now. What it was that you were making him feel.

He noticed your once hopeful expression was turning into a dejected look the longer he took to reply and he quickly said, “I don’t mind.” A smile lit up your face once again at his words as you told him, “Great, let’s go.”

Satan followed you to the library, watching you every step of the way. You entered the expansive room and continued walking until you were facing the reading area where two chairs and a couch were set up. Satan sat down on the couch, knowing that you would undoubtedly go for one of the chairs. He got comfortable and began reading the book.

However, he froze in his spot, his mind unable to focus as you sat down on the couch next to him. You focused your attention to your own book and Satan peered over his to look at you, his heart racing. You looked so alluring sitting next to him and reading. He wasn’t sure he would be able to get any reading done. Eventually though, he knew he would have to read or he would scare you off by spending the time just staring at you.

So, he began reading the book you gave him, getting lost in the story the author portrayed. You had also gotten lost in the world of the book Satan gave you. Both of you were so invested in the literature that you didn’t realize how late it had gotten until Lucifer came storming into the library.

You both looked up from your books, Satan starting to feel angry that of all his brothers, Lucifer was the one who interrupted his time with you. “There you are,” Lucifer said softly, looking at you. You looked up at him slightly confused and Lucifer told you, “It’s past midnight.”

You and Satan looked at each other shocked as you looked at the clock in the library. How had you both lost track of time so easily. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t even realize,” you replied, putting a bookmark in your book and getting up from the couch much to the dismay of Satan.

You began walking out of the library when you turned to face him. “I’ll see you later,” you told Satan with a smile before heading to your room. Satan couldn’t help the small smile that graced his lips at the idea of spending time with you again.

Satan got to the library early the next day, hoping you would be there as well. However, after a bit of time had passed he had given up on the idea that you were going to show up. Why would you want to?

He was about to go read in his room instead when you came rushing through the doors. Satan’s features immediately brightened when he saw you. You actually came.

“Hi,” you greeted warmly, moving over to the couch and sitting down next to Satan again. “Hi,” he replied, sounding more confident this time. “How was your day?” you asked him and he looked surprised by the question. You seemed honestly interested in knowing.

“It was good,” he replied. “Good,” you told him, flashing him a smile before opening your book and continuing to read. You two sat in silence for a while, your eyes scanning over the pages. Until suddenly you heard Satan mutter, “That can’t be.”

You tore your eyes away from your book to look up at the demon. You could tell by the look of the book about which part he had gotten to and a small smirk fell to your lips. It was one of your favorite parts.

You continued reading and a little while later you let out a small gasp. One of your favorite characters had died and no one knew what happened. Satan raised an eyebrow at the sound you had made and you looked up at him.

“She’s dead,” you told him. He watched you as your eyes rescanned the page, softly biting on your bottom lip as thoughts began running rampant through your head. Satan let his eyes trail to your bottom lip, letting himself get distracted at the ideas of how he would bite it.

He quickly snapped out of his thoughts before looking back at your eyes. He could tell your head was spinning with theories. He smirked slightly before asking, “What are you thinking about?” “I’m trying to figure out who killed her,” you replied.

“Who? The book deems it a suicide,” Satan replied. “Yeah, but that doesn’t add up. I mean first of all, she was found in a location that she had no business being in. Not to mention, to get there, someone would have had to let her in. She had a phobia of guns and yet that’s the weapon that was used. And on top of all of that, she had no history of depression, and she had just gotten a huge promotion at her job that she’s been working towards for years,” you explained.

“So, you think she was murdered?” Satan questioned, his smirk growing even more. “Yes, and if I had to guess who did it, I would say it was the boyfriend,” you replied, your eyes returning to the pages. A look of adoration shone through Satan’s green eyes as he looked at you, knowing you were absolutely correct. He couldn’t wait for you to find out.

He continued to read his book, stopping briefly every so often to clarify things with you about the human world that he was unfamiliar with. You were happy to share the information you had with him. Just as he was happy to do the same for you when it came to Devildom.

The night was drawing to a close and you were so close to finishing the book. You had to pay attention to the clock this time after promising Lucifer you would make sure to be in your room by curfew. You felt like you were racing against the clock to try and finish the book. Satan noticed what you were doing and couldn’t help but watch in amusement. He was curious if you would manage to pull it off.

Your eyes read the last few words on the page and you smiled as you excitedly said, “I knew it!” Satan let out a small laugh as you closed the book, a small blush coating your cheeks. “Sorry,” you muttered. “Don’t be. I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone else who guessed it was a murder and guessed who did it. Well...anyone but me,” Satan replied.

You smiled and opened your mouth to continue the conversation when suddenly you realized the time. “Uh oh,” you whispered. “You should get back to your room,” Satan told you. You nodded your head and wished him a good night before heading off to your room, going to bed with a smile on your face.

Satan didn’t see you for the next few days and he was starting to worry that maybe you didn’t want to spend time with him anymore. He decided to read in his room for the night, not expecting you to show up at the library.

He had just gotten comfortable when there was suddenly a knock on his door. He was slightly irritated, expecting it to be one of his brothers with an insignificant reason as to why they were interrupting his time. But, when he opened the door, he saw you standing there, holding something behind your back.

“Sorry, am I interrupting?” you asked, your smile faltering just a bit. “Not at all,” he replied, surprised at how relieved he felt just to see you. “I got you a present,” you told him, holding out a book. Satan felt a whole new emotion rise up in him as he took the book from you and read the title. It was the second book to the one he had recommended you read. He had told you he never got the chance to read it himself. “They only had one copy, so I was wondering if you wanted to read it with me,” you said, a bit nervously, avoiding his gaze.

Satan smiled - a genuine smile - before his eyes lit up with excitement. “I’d love to,” he told you and your eyes finally met his. You took his hand in yours and his cheeks felt warm as you led him to the library.

When you got there, Satan sat down on the couch and you sat down next to him. You had to sit very close so you could both read the book, but you tried to be respectful of his space. Satan was blushing, looking very flustered, but opened the book.

You each began reading, your paces matching perfectly - as if you were meant to read together. Your reactions fed off of each other and you noticed yourself relaxing to Satan, your body pressing a bit further into him.

Your movement made him pause for a moment, his heart racing at an unbelievable pace as you sat next to him. But, he noticed that, for some reason, being this close to you felt undeniably right.

It had gotten late and you had just finished a chapter so you suggested you go to bed and pick up tomorrow. You got up first and then Satan got up as well, marking the spot with a bookmark. “See you tomorrow!” you told him, chastely pressing your lips to his cheek before bounding off to your room.

Satan stood there, frozen in shock, before gently pressing his fingers to the spot where your lips had touched him. Had you meant to do that? It felt so natural. As if you had done it a thousand times. Satan tried to get his breathing under control as he went back to his room for the night.

The next day, you woke up with so much excitement to see Satan again. You couldn’t wait to continue the story. But, the other demon brothers had different plans. They had you go with them to run some errands. You weren’t super happy about it, but complied. You texted Satan to let him know you would be late and ran around town with the others.

When you got back to the House of Lamentation, you were exhausted but still intent on seeing Satan. You went to the library and smiled when you saw that he was there, reading a different book to pass time.

“Hi,” you said, collapsing onto the couch next to him. He noticed your tired look and asked, “Are you okay?” You nodded your head before telling him, “Just tired. Your brothers wore me out today.” A slight frown formed as Satan suggested, “We could just pick the story up tomorrow, if you’d rather.”

You wanted to spend time with Satan so you quickly shook your head no. But, you doubted you would be able to keep up with his pace tonight. Suddenly, an idea came to your mind. “Would you read it to me?”

Satan was slightly taken aback by your question but agreed to it. You settled into his side, keeping your eyes on the book, even though he was reading the words out loud to you. He had one of his arms around you to properly hold the book.

He was in the middle of the sentence when suddenly, he forgot how to read. Or maybe he forgot how to speak. Because suddenly your head had fallen to his chest. He could hear his heart pounding in his chest as he looked down and noticed you were fast asleep. Panic set in as he tried to figure out what he should do. Should he wake you? You looked so peaceful sleeping though. Would you be mad if he let you sleep on him? Surely not, right?

Satan set the book down and shifted a bit so you both sat more comfortably on the couch. Upon moving, you moved your arm to wrap around his torso as you nuzzled further into his chest. Satan was so thankful that you were asleep so that you wouldn’t see how hard he was blushing or how nervous you made him.

He was able to reach a nearby blanket and carefully draped it over you before letting his arms hold you. He decided that even if there was another war happening outside, he was not going to move from this position. Soon, he fell asleep as well.

You woke up the next morning, feeling something warm pressed against you. You fluttered your eyes open and noticed that it was Satan. You looked around and realized you had fallen asleep on him in the library. You blushed and moved slightly, waking him. “Good morning,” he mumbled, his deep, groggy voice sending a shiver down your spine.

“Good morning,” you replied, moving to a sitting position. Satan immediately missed your warmth. He expected you to yell at him for not waking you up sooner, but instead you just smiled and asked him if he wanted to have breakfast with you.

There was no school today so you had the whole day to yourselves. You had a nice breakfast together, surprised that the other brothers weren’t there. Then, Satan didn’t even need to ask you what you wanted to do before you were both making your way back to the library.

You spent the next few hours reading the book, each of your own theories spinning in your head about who the murderer was. “It’s the spouse again,” Satan stated with confidence. You disagreed. “No, it’s the sister!” you argued. Satan looked borderline offended that you had proposed that idea. “Where did you even get that idea?” he asked. “The evidence is all over the book,” you replied. “No, it’s clear the spouse has struck yet again.”

“Fine, keep reading. I’ll prove you wrong,” you replied, a smirk on your face. Few had ever dared to challenge the Avatar of Wrath, and something about the way you challenged him made him all the more excited.

The two of you continued to read the book, grasping on to every word until you got to the last chapter. You sat closer to Satan, your attention completely on the book as the two of you read the ending. “So…,” he began. “It was the sister and the spouse,” you muttered. This was a turn of events. “So, we were both right,” he stated. A small pout formed on your lips. “I really wanted to prove you wrong,” you said, crossing your arms in disappointment.

Satan looked at your expression and couldn’t help but notice how adorable you looked right now. Without thinking, he gently rubbed his thumb over your bottom lip that was jutted out in mock sadness. Your heart stopped beating as it brushed over your lip. You stared at Satan in shock as tension filled the air between the two of you.

Satan blinked a couple of times before realizing what he just did. A blush immediately graced his cheeks as he pulled his hand away from you. “Sorry,” he muttered, looking anywhere but you. He didn’t even want to begin to think what you must think of him after that.

He moved to stand up, but you were quick to action. “Wait,” you said softly placing a hand on his arm, keeping him in his place. He looked at you in shock, waiting for you to say something; but, you had no words.

Instead, you leaned forward, placing your lips on his in a gentle kiss. Satan felt a wave of emotions. His mind began racing with thoughts as his body reacted to the kiss on its own. He had read about it before, but he never truly understood until now…this was…love.

As soon as he realized what the feeling was, he couldn’t get enough of it. He wanted more. He needed more. In one swift motion, he pulled you onto his lap, your legs straddling either side of him as he gently cupped your cheeks with his hands.

He pulled away for a moment, looking into your eyes. He silently asked if it was okay for the two of you to continue and you answered his question by reconnecting your lips. You settled your hips on him as you ran your fingers through his hair, pulling slightly.

Satan let out a small gasp at the feeling and you took the opportunity to insert your tongue into his mouth, doing everything in your power to please Satan. This was all new to him. He never had someone he felt this way about.

He wrapped his own hand in your hair as he bit your lower lip - something he had been wanting to do since that day he saw you gently bringing it in between your own teeth. The once quiet and shy bookworm was now experiencing a new side of himself and you were loving it.

He entangled his fingers into your hair even more, tugging on it enough to not hurt you but to jerk your head back, exposing your neck to him. He stared at it for a moment, admiring it, before placing sloppy kisses on it. He used his tongue to try and taste every inch of your neck before deciding on a slightly more dangerous option and he began sucking and biting the delicate skin.

You let out a small moan as he reached a particularly sensitive spot and Satan’s eyes widened. It was a simple moan - a taste of what was in store if the two of you continued. But it sent him over the edge.

He pulled away suddenly and you let out a small whimper, immediately missing the feeling of his lips. You dropped your head back down and made eye contact with him. His eyes were filled with lust and excitement that only turned you on more.

“Do you want to go to my room for the night?” he asked you simply. It was an innocent question, but it implied far less innocent actions. You nodded your head, immediately getting off of Satan. The two of you had smiles plastered on your face as he led you to his room.

As soon as the both of you were in, you shut the door and he pressed you up against it, no longer able to control his lust. He immediately began kissing you, but it wasn’t like before. These kisses were desperate - needy.

You pulled him close, deepening the kiss, before deciding to roll your hips against his. He let out a groan against your lips, the simple motion eliciting a surprising amount of pleasure. You helped him pull off his shirt and your hands immediately began exploring his chest and abdomen, appreciating how fit he was.

You pushed him towards the bed and Satan sat down with you straddling him once again. This time, it was your turn to begin kissing down his neck, leaving your own love marks. Satan relished in the feeling of your lips on his skin; and, when he had enough, he flipped the two of you so that he was back in control.

He quickly removed your shirt, taking a moment to fully take in your beauty before going back to his mission of pleasuring you. His hands reached behind you, sending a shiver down your spine as he unhooked your bra.

Then his lips and hands were caressing every part of your chest. He wanted to mark you as his as much as possible, making sure to place a kiss on every part he marked. The feelings his mouth and hands gave you were something you had never felt before - and, it left you craving for more.

Your hips involuntarily rolled against his again and Satan let out a small chuckle. He was just happy you were wanting him as badly as he was wanting you.

He carefully undid your pants before sliding them down, leaving you in nothing but your panties. Satan stroked the soft skin of your thighs before positioning himself in front of you. He bent down and began kissing and licking up the inner part of your thighs and you let out a few more moans, his mouth getting so close to where you wanted him more than anything.

He placed another kiss on your mound, over the panties, and you were sure that at this point, they were ruined. “Satan,” you moaned out. You were tired of the teasing. You wanted him - all of him.

Satan’s heart stopped beating as you moaned out his name. It had to be his favorite sound he has ever heard. He quickly removed your panties before taking off his own pants and boxers. He kissed back up your body, his hands freely roaming, before he locked eyes with you - once again silently asking you a question.

You gave him a small nod of your head and he kissed you passionately as he finally thrusted into you. His mind was clouded at the feeling of how tight you felt around him, and you were lost in the feeling of how good he felt inside you.

He slowly began moving, continuing to kiss you as he mumbled against your lips. You felt so fucking good. His thrusts became quicker and quicker as the room began filling with both of your moans. You gripped his back roughly, your nails threatening to leave scratch marks as you felt you yourself getting closer and closer to your climax.

Satan intertwined your fingers with his as he knew you were close. You moaned out his name one more time and he pulled you close as he finally let himself release. You followed shortly after, the noise in the room being reduced to heavy pants as you both came down from your high.

______________

When Satan woke up the next morning, he was surprised to feel a warmth sleeping next to him. His eyes fluttered open and he couldn’t help but smile as he saw you there. Memories flashed through his mind of him marking you as his, and he would gladly do it over and over again.

His eyes trailed down from your face to your chest and he noticed that you were wearing his sweater. You must have put it on at some point during the night.

He wanted to do something nice for you. Something to show you that you meant something to him. His mind went back to his books and he recalled how some significant others would cook their spouses breakfast to signify their night together.

Satan thought it was a good idea, so he snuck downstairs and did his best to recreate some of the human breakfast options he had read about. When he was satisfied with what he had made, he brought it upstairs to his room.

He quietly entered the room and set the tray on the bed before leaning in closer to you. Why did you always have to look so adorable? He leaned down and gently placed a kiss on your lips. You felt a smile forming on your face as you slowly opened your eyes to see your favorite demon sitting in front of you.

“Good morning,” you said groggily, remembering everything that had happened last night. “I made you breakfast,” Satan told you, a small smile resting on his features. Your eyes lit up with excitement as you quickly sat up, looking at the tray.

You felt your heart swell with joy and you pulled him into a hug. “Thank you,” you told him, before pulling back. He gave you a small nod, the blush on his cheeks still present as he brought the tray in between the two of you.

Satan stared at you in awe as you sat there in his bed, wearing his sweater. Your hair fell effortlessly and your eyes had a natural sparkle to them. You looked so perfect without even trying to.

You graciously ate the breakfast Satan had made you with a content smile on your face. You looked up and noticed him staring at you. A small blush coated your cheeks as you asked, “What?”

Satan smiled softly at you before replying, "I can’t get over how a few months ago, I wanted to learn your name, and now you’re having breakfast with me in my sweater.”

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katyswrites · 3 months ago

Text

put on your records (and regret me)

PART 4 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: asshole!Steve, rivals-to-lovers, swearing, fingering, dry humping, no use of y/n

Wordcount: 4.3k

Playlist

You love WAMC-Hawkins, Indiana’s top college radio station. It’s your safe space, your niche. It’s where you’ve made your friends, your favorite place to be when the rest of the world gets to be just a bit too much. Well, with one exception.

Steve Harrington is a thorn in your side. And just as well - he thinks you’re a royal pain in the ass. But in your senior year, you’re both on the e-board, so you have to work together. You love to hate him. So why can’t you get him out of your head? And, why do you find yourself going to see his band, each and every weekend?

Underground basement concerts, spinning old records, and screaming matches in the vinyl library with the boy you love to hate. An enemies-to-lovers college radio station 90s AU.

TRACK 4

After your encounter backstage with Steve, you consider a few options.

Make a beeline for the roof of the building and try to jump off, hopefully to your untimely death. Or -

- return to the floor, watch the rest of the show, and act like everything is normal.

It takes you most of the walk back down the hallway to pick the second, admittedly more logical, option.

You make your way back to the crowd in the venue, shouldering your way through packed bodies and pulling the bottom of your shoes off the sticky floor until you manage to spot Nancy.

“You okay?” she asks, her brow furrowed with worry - you were gone far too long for a bathroom run.

“Yeah, just a long line,” you lie, your voice higher-pitched than you’d like it to be. If Nancy notices, she doesn’t say anything.

You just do your best to stare straight ahead, and pretend to be captivated by the band on stage. In truth, they’re only okay - but it doesn’t matter, because at least you don’t have to look at him up there.

It’s then that you only know one thing for certain - you’re going to have to spend the rest of the school year completely avoiding Steve. That, of course, is virtually impossible. Unless -

For a brief, fleeing moment, the thought of quitting the radio station crosses your mind. In general, it’s the only time you see him - the university’s campus is big enough that you rarely encounter him in any other context. Though, knowing your luck, somehow he’ll suddenly start popping up on your regular walk to class now, making himself known across campus at your inconvenience.

Still… quitting the station really brings the chances of seeing him again down to nearly zero.

No, you can’t - you’re not going to stop doing your favorite thing because of him. That’s how Steve wins - maybe that’s been his plan all along, actually. You wouldn’t put that past him. You want to smack yourself for even considering the possibility - you’re in charge of the place, and you’d screw over a lot of people if you quit in the middle of the semester.

You’re still thinking about Steve, despite doing everything in your power not to. You’re thinking about him as the last band leaves the stage, as you drive home with Nancy, and even later that night as you’re lying in bed, willing yourself to go to sleep.

As you stare at your ceiling, you try to rationalize what happened. Maybe it didn’t happen at all, and it was some strange dream. But, you think about the taste of him, his rough hands wandering along your soft skin, the way he sounded as he -

You sit up, groaning as your head falls into your hands. You’re so unbelievably fucked.

*****

That Thursday, you do something you’ve never done before - you call out of your radio show, for no real reason. Most DJ’s aren’t allowed to call out more than three times a semester. You’ve missed your show exactly twice before this in the last 3 years - once due to having a horrible fever, the other due to your grandfather’s funeral. So, when you call the station to say you’ll be missing your show (and Eddie picks up the phone, because of course he does), he’s surprised enough that you have to pretend you’re sick. You’re not sure he buys your performance, but he just says he’ll cross you out of the schedule, allowing you to keep up the charade.

Still, you can’t stay away forever. You do your best to focus on other things - schoolwork, friends, and not Steve. It doesn’t matter that you keep a keen eye out as you walk across campus, your heart speeding up as you spot another guy with his silhouette and a similar mop of hair walking ahead of you, only to feel relief when he turns around and reveals he’s not who you thought he was.

You still end up seeing him sooner than you’d hoped, though - you thought you’d avoid him until the following Thursday, when you inevitably had to come into the studio and do your radio show after skipping the last one. But no - instead, there’s a meeting at the station this Sunday, because of course there is. You had scheduled it, of course, but that was before what happened at the show.

You just try to put him out of your mind beforehand, instead focusing on the agenda and main talking points - after all, it’s your job. If there’s one thing you love, it’s planning things - down to the minute, if possible. Here’s the problem with station meetings, though - the board meets beforehand, just as a small group, to go over everything before the rest of the DJs arrive. This has always been a bit of an inconvenience for you, thanks to Steve’s exasperating presence - now, you need it about as much as a hole in the head.

That morning, you’re the first to arrive - that’s to be expected. You unlock the station door and head into your tiny, messy office, pulling out your notes to go over with the rest of the board when they arrive - if they arrive. Perhaps Steve’s poor attendance record would continue today, and you won’t have to deal with him at all. You sigh, spotting the CD box in the corner. Bands and artists mail in their music all the time, hoping to be put on-air in the ongoing new music rotation. DJs can even take CDs home to review them, list some favorite songs, and note the explicit tracks that can’t be played on-air. Then, it’s your job to sort all the CDs by genre and shelve them in the studio, so other students in the station can find them easily. But right now, the box is overflowing - you’d probably have to stay after the meeting to sort it out. You sigh again, bemoaning the less-than glamorous parts of your job.

You hear the station door open, signaling someone’s arrival. You tense, hearing the footsteps walking towards your office door. It’s enough to make you whirl around, only to relax when you see Darius posp his head in.

“Hey - anyone else here yet?”

You breathe a sigh of relief, shaking your head as you return to organizing your notes strewn across your desk.

“Um, no - I only just got here a few minutes ago.”

He nods, pushing his glasses up his nose.

“Cool - hey, did I spot you at Fuze Box on Saturday?”

Even the mention of it makes your adrenaline spike.

“Oh - yeah. You did a great job - emceeing, that is -”

He laughs. “Thanks. I get paid exactly zero dollars, but they said I can have any of their old equipment that I want, since they just upgraded everything. Speaking of which, I think I can score a few new mics to replace the ones without going into the budget - I mean, I’ll talk about it at the meeting -”

“Yeah, sounds good -” you say absentmindedly, eyes widening as you see something on your desk that catches your eye. Darius is still chatting, but you’ve stopped listening.

“Talk about it in a bit -” you add quietly, trying to politely dismiss him. He gets the message and steps out, presumably heading to the lounge. You hear a few more people shuffling in outside your door. But, that’s not what interests you right now. Instead, it the note on your desk, written on the back of an old napkin.

Meet me in the vinyl library, after meeting. After they’re all gone.

It’s not signed, but you can now recognize the handwriting well enough. When did he leave this?

He must mean today, after the meeting… after they’re all gone. He knows you’ve been avoiding him… but you can’t avoid him here. You examine it for a moment, picking it up and flipping it in your hands. There’s nothing else written, no other information. You crumple it up, tossing it in the small garbage can beside your desk. Your mind is racing - what’s he up to now? You remember the conversation about the vinyl library at the party a few weeks ago, and you feel your face heat. There’s no way he actually wants to -

Your train of thought is interrupted by a soft knock on your door. You jump slightly, and clear your throat.

“Yeah?”

Eddie pokes his head in.

“Hey - everyone’s here.”

You nod, offering a small smile as you grab your notebook.

“Right - thanks,” you say quietly, following him out towards the station lounge.

Sure enough, the whole E-board is there - Darius, Eddie, Argyle, Chrissy Cunningham, Diego Hernandez, Lucas Sinclair… and, of course, Steve.

You cast a glance around the room as you enter, and offer a friendly smile, but decidedly ignore Steve.

“Hey, everyone - thanks for coming out on a Sunday… I hope nobody’s too hungover,” you say, glancing down at your notebook. There’s a sprinkle of laughs.

“Okay, so - you guys know the drill… when the rest of the station members get here, everyone can say their piece about anything important pertaining to their position… I just wanted us to meet first, in case anyone had something specific they wanted to bring up to me, or other members of the board before everyone arrives. Also, reminder that Nancy’s not here today because of her internship, but she gave me her notes…so, what’ve you guys got?”

It’s only at the end of your spiel that you look up, glancing around. Steve is staring right at you - the bastard.

Darius raises his hand - a relief. You call on him, and listen as he starts going on about the secondhand equipment he procured for the station from the Fuze Box. You stare right at him as he speaks, feeling Steve’s stare burning a hole through your head from across the room.

The next hour or so flies by - the larger group of student DJs arrive, and everyone makes announcements. Eddie mentions the new time slot for his training show, Lucas brings up how he needs to take over other people’s slots if they fall during the university’s sporting events for commentary, Chrissy talks a bit about fundraising for the station’s music festival in the spring - pretty typical fare for a station meeting. When you finally get to Steve, you’re forced to finally acknowledge him.

“Harrington,” you say, matter-of-fact. “Any updates?”

Steve just stares at you for a moment, perhaps a moment too long, and shakes his head.

“Nope - nothing from me.”

You sigh.

“Nothing from the Program Director, at all?”

It’s not fair to do this in front of everyone else, you know that, but you’re too tired of his shit to really care.

He rolls his eyes.

“Nope - I’m already doing my job perfectly - thanks, though.”

There’s a smattering of snickers and whispers throughout the room. You ignore it, holding his gaze as you cross your arms.

“Fine - glad you’re so sure of yourself, Harrington,” you say curtly.

There’s a moment of awkward silence, nobody really sure what to say. You don’t break eye contact with Steve, refusing to surrender. After somebody behind you awkwardly clears their throat, Steve finally relents.

“Fine - um - everyone cool it with the explicit tracks on the air, or the FCC wil be on our asses - I’m looking at you, Munson.”

There’s a cry of protest from Eddie’s side of the room, followed by a series of laughs, and the tense moment has passed.

Steve holds your gaze for a moment later, then you look away. After opening the floor to questions and concerns, the meeting is dismissed not long after, with most students scattering, and a few hanging back to mingle.

As always, a bit of a line forms to talk to you - station members with all kinds questions, like asking when the second mic in the studio will be fixed (probably never), if they can have their non-DJ friends on-air (they can’t), and an abundance of other questions that you have gone over a thousand times already this year. This is typical, and you get occupied enough that you almost completely forget about Steve and his antics. Nearly an hour after the meeting, the last few students filter out, leaving you alone at last. You still have most of the afternoon left, and know you need to get home to finish up some homework and run some errands. You head into your office just to put away the meeting notes, and sigh - the box of CDs is still haunting you in the corner.

It’s better left alone - a problem for another day. You stil give in, and crouch down to pick it up. As you turn to bring it to your desk, you see someone standing in the doorway. You yelp, and the box of CDs goes crashing to the floor.

“Jesus Christ -”

“Nope, just me,” Steve says, pulling himself off of where he’s leaning against the doorframe to help pick up the mess.

“Were you just standing there watching me?” you ask, stooping down again to join him in picking up the debris.

“No - I just didn’t want to make a noise and scare you -”

“Nice job with that” you mutter, placing stacks of CDs into the box.

“So, were you just planning to avoid me forever?” he asks casually, handing you some more albums.

“I’m not avoiding you” you say, refusing to meet his eyes. Even you know that you don’t sound that convincing.

He scoffs. “Yeah, okay.”

You sigh, looking up at him.

“What do you want from me?”

“Did you get my note?” he asks nonchalantly.

“Yeah - you’re like goddamn a carrier pigeon.”

He laughs, a real laugh, and it just pisses you off more.

“Fine? You want to talk? Then talk - I’m busy, I have places to be -”

“Why do you think I don’t?”

You roll your eyes. “Probably because our meeting ended an hour ago, and you’re still here, you stalker.”

“I’m the stalker?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He rolls his eyes, and takes a step closer. “Everywhere I turn, there you are, being a pain in my ass -”

“Oh, so you finally know how I feel!” you retort, crossing your arms. “Am I avoiding you, or always up your ass? Make up your mind, Harrington!”

“Why did you do it?” he asks.

“Do what?”

“You know what -”

You feel your face heat, and shake your head.

“Let’s just pretend that never happened -”

“Why? You seemed to want it pretty bad -”

“Shut up -” you insist, avoiding his eyes.

“Be honest - what would’ve happened if Robin didn’t interrupt?” he asks, his voice lower, rougher. You just shake your head, refusing to look at him.

“C’mon, princess - you can’t just pretend it didn’t happen -”

“Oh, I most certainly can.”

“Well I can’t,” he says firmly, closing the little space there is between you two. “I’ve been thinking about it - about you - a lot -”

“Harrington, just stop it right there - I don’t like you, you don’t like me - we’re not friends -”

“I know,” he murmurs. “My friends don’t kiss me like you did.”

You hear your own breath hitch, and want to kick yourself.

“We aren’t -”

“I know we aren’t… anything,” he replies, his face close enough that you feel his breath. “You’re stubborn, a pain in my ass, and even a stuck-up bitch sometimes.”

“Hey -”

“But - I can’t get the way you sounded out of my head.”

He slowly extends his leg behind him, hitting the office door with his foot to slam it shut.

“Harrington -” you breathe, his nose brushing yours.

“You gonna push me away, princess?” he asks softly.

You’re barely finished shaking your head before his lips are crashing into yours. You don’t protest, don’t fight him. Instead, you kiss him back, demanding. He smiles against your lips, and groans when your fingers find their way into his hair, tugging on the chestnut locks.

“You’re right - I hate you -” you breathe.

“Shut up -” he grumbles, capturing your lips again.

He presses you against the desk, his hands on your waist.

You gasp as his tongue enters your mouth.

“I - I can’t -”

“Princess - shut the fuck up, for once, and just -”

He emits a deep, guttural groan, as you bring your thigh between his legs, finding a bulge there. The sound makes you feel warm and tingly.

“Fuck it -” he growls, lifting you up with less effort than you and anticipated, sitting you on your desk. You gasp, and his lips are on your neck.

“Tell me to stop” he whispers into your skin.

“No,” you breathe spreading your legs as he comes to stand between them.

“Thank God,” he sighs, his lips finding yours again.

“Harrington -” you whine, too turned on to care about your dignity right now.

“I know,” he whispers, his lips swollen, face flushed.

“I wanna touch you,” he murmurs, and it sends warmth right to your core. You nod, and he looks like a kid on Christmas, reaching down to unbutton your jeans.

You know you should stop - that you’ll regret this, that he’ll never let you live it down - but all you can think about is how good his lips taste.

He gets your pants shoved down only a bit, just enough that he can reach down and cup you through your panties. You moan, and he chuckles.

“That’s the sound I’ve been thinkin’ about.”

You smack his arm, and his lips find their way back to your neck. You throw your head back to give him better access.

“So fuckin’ wet,” he mumbles, feeling your panties. “This for me?”

“You - you wish,” you say weakly, knowing how ridiculous it sounds as you’re actively bucking into his hand.

“Can I -”

“Yes,” you breathe, exasperated.

He doesn’t need to hear it twice, pulling your underwear down to meet your jeans, neither even making it halfway down your thigh.

He tentatively runs is finger along your slit, and you whine, gripping his shoulders.

“You’re fuckin’ soaked -”

“Shut up -”

“Why?”

“I don’t need you - fuck - commenting on - just touch me -”

You bring your thigh up between his legs, and he grinds down, his arousal straining against his jeans evident. It spurs him to listen to you, and coat his fingers in your arousal. He moans, and you smile against his lips.

“What is it?” he asks, breathless.

“I finally figured out how to make you - oh, god - do what I tell you -”

“Never,” he insists, his finger circling your clit. You cry out, eyes fluttering shut.

You shouldn’t like this - but you do. You like how he groans and sighs against your mouth, how his nose presses into your cheek, like he wants to devour you. You like that he kisses you like he knows what he’s doing, that tells you he knows how a girl likes to be touched.

So you let him touch you - you let him toy with your clit, slip a finger inside, then two. You clench around him, moaning with every crook of his fingers, every motion of his thumb on your clit. It’s wrong - letting the boy you’ve sworn to hate finger you on your desk, where anyone can walk in. But, damnit, it turns you on, too.

He’s grinding his crotch against your thigh, desperate for friction, and you let him.

“Fuck - Harrington - m’gonna - I’m close to -”

“Christ - you can’t say shit like that to me -” he growls, his voice wrecked.

You just whimper, grabbing his face and pulling him back in for a messy, desperate kiss. It feels filthy, but you don’t want to stop.

When you cum, it’s sudden, your cunt clenching around his fingers. You moan into his neck, pulling on his hair as he continues his ministrations, working you through your orgasm. He thrusts against your thigh, grunts loudly, then stills.

For a few moments, neither of you speak - the only sound in the room is both of your labored breathing, his heart pounding against yours.

It takes only a few moments for the reality to set in. You pull back, letting go of him quickly, and clear your throat.

“Um - did you - do you need -”

“No,” he admits, a bit sheepish. It takes you a moment to realize, then you let out a laugh.

“What?”

“You came in your pants? What are you, 13?”

“Fuck off -”

You roll your eyes, and use your knee to nudge him away, shimmying your underwear and pants back up your hips quickly.

He stands back, looking away as he rubs the back of his neck.

“So - um -”

“I should go,” you say quickly, your post-orgasm bliss being overtaken with a distinct sense of embarrassment. In fact, you’re mortified.

You don’t look at him as you grab your bag, making a beeline for the door.

“Hey -” he starts, his voice hoarse.

“Don’t -” you cut him off, wanting to shrink into yourself - he’ll never let you live this down. Hell, you’ll never let yourself live it down. You stop in the doorway, and take in the sight of him - face flushed, hair mussed, and a notable dark spot forming in his jeans. You smirk when you see it, and look away quickly when he looks down, face going red.

“I - if you ever told anyone I -”

You scoff.

“Like I’d advertise this,” you say, voice laced with contempt. Before he can respond, you’re gone, slamming the door on your way out.

author's note: hi everyone! I know it's been forever... I took a much-needed break from Tumblr, and writing in general. But, I want to get back into it, because I miss it! Plus, seeing Djo back in action has really given me some inspiration for this fic in particular. I don't know when the next part will be posted, but it won't be crazy long again. I always appreciate likes, reblogs, and comments!

#put on your records fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington/reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington/reader smut #steve harrington/you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington/fem!reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #put on your records (and regret me)

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mercillery · 3 months ago

Text

CHIBI MIHAWK

WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + NOT PROOFREAD NOTES: based on THIS absolutely cute Mihawk figure. This was done on a whim on a school night so there may be oopsies here and there.

Somehow, some way, for reasons that defy logic, science, and possibly even the laws of nature, Dracule Mihawk is now a chibi. A pint-sized, absolutely microscopic version of himself with all of his pride, dignity, and soul-piercing intensity still fully intact.

Despite his new… predicament, Mihawk flat-out refuses to acknowledge that anything is out of the ordinary. He does not see himself as helpless. He does not see himself as weak. He will not be patronized. He is still the greatest swordsman in the world, even if he now looks like he could be comfortably carried around in your pocket. And yet, despite his best efforts to maintain an air of authority, his tiny body betrays him at every turn.

You, on the other hand, have been gifted with a chibi Mihawk, and while this has certainly thrown your daily routine into chaos, you can’t deny that watching the world’s most fearsome swordsman struggle to do literally anything at this size is, frankly, the greatest thing that has ever happened to you.

Chibi Mihawk, who you desperately want to scoop up and cradle like a fragile little kitten, but who absolutely will not allow it. Do not be fooled. He may be fun-sized, but he is still himself—a walking embodiment of dignity, self-sufficiency, and sheer force of will.

If you so much as think about treating him like some kind of adorable novelty, expect an immediate and deeply unimpressed stare. Actually, scratch that—you’re getting the stare regardless. His golden eyes somehow retain the exact same sharpness as before, and there is something so deeply unnerving about being observed like a lesser life form by a man who is literally small enough to fit in a teacup. He does not blink. He does not move. He just watches you, silently, like a hawk preparing to swoop down on its unsuspecting prey.

And as if the sheer existence of a chibi Mihawk wasn’t enough, his sword shrank too. Of course it did. Yoru is practically an extension of himself—there was no way it wasn’t going to shrink right along with him. And now, you have not only a pocket-sized Mihawk but also a tiny, toy-sized Yoru that, miraculously, still looks just as menacing as the full-sized version. It is approximately the length of a butter knife. A very intimidating butter knife.

You have seen him attempt to sharpen it. With a rock. Like a miniature warrior preparing for battle, except there is no battle, just a very small man aggressively honing his skills on the coffee table. Oh, and his hat shrunk too. His entire outfit shrunk to match, and let’s be honest—the sight of him in his dramatically oversized coat, which now practically drags behind him like a royal cape, is almost enough to make you lose it. But you don’t. Because you know, deep down, that if you do, if you so much as let out a single laugh—he will remember. And he will wait.

You keep chibi Mihawk near you 24/7. There is no negotiation, no room for argument—this is non-debatable. The paranoia is REAL. He is the World’s Greatest Swordsman, and now he is the World’s Tiniest Greatest Swordsman, and there is absolutely no way in the nine circles of hell that you are letting him out of your sight for even a nanosecond.

What if he gets lost? What if someone steps on him?? What if a seagull snatches him up like a breadcrumb and carries him off to parts unknown?!? No. NO. Not on your watch. You have seen firsthand how ridiculously overpowered Mihawk is in battle, but even you have to admit that at his current size, he is disturbingly close to being classified as a snack.

Of course, Mihawk, being Mihawk, has very specific terms and conditions for how he is allowed to be carried. The only acceptable method? Perching on your shoulder like some kind of regal falcon. That is it. That is the rule.

Attempt to hold him any other way—cupping him in your hands, cradling him like a baby, or heaven forbid, tucking him into your pocket—and you will be met with a stare so chilling it could freeze the sun itself. And then, in a voice that is far too calm for how deadly it sounds, he will warn, “You’re testing my patience.”

Translation: You are moments away from death.

That being said, whether you like it or not, he is going to be on your shoulder. You are now a full-time, unpaid Mihawk perch. He will not ask permission, nor will he give you a choice in the matter.

You could be sitting down, minding your own business, and suddenly—boom—there he is, climbing up your sleeve with the sheer determination of a man who refuses to acknowledge that he is, in fact, fun-sized. You are now his personal throne, and he expects you to act accordingly.

Oh, and speaking of things you have no choice in? It is now your job to protect him from birds. You don’t want to? Too bad.

The moment Mihawk shrunk, he went from world-renowned swordsman to potential bird food, and the reality of that is absolutely terrifying. You have no idea how many times you’ve had to aggressively wave your arms and hiss at an overly curious pigeon while Mihawk simply crossed his arms and stared at it like he was daring it to attack. Like, sir, I don’t think you understand, you are one second away from becoming someone’s lunch.

Mihawk, despite being pocket-sized, still commands authority and expects to be treated with the same level of respect as before. Just because he is now a fraction of his usual height does not mean he is any less of a threat. (His words, not yours.) That means he still demands his wine, his alone time, and most importantly, his dignity. However, this is now impossible.

His first real struggle with his new reality? His wine.

Mihawk, being the man of refined tastes that he is, insists on drinking his wine as usual, except there is now a very specific and hilarious problem: the glass is twice his size.

Watching him attempt to lift it is a test of willpower on your end, because if you so much as smirk, he will know. And he will remember. Eventually, after a long, suffering silence, you had to find him a thimble just so he could properly enjoy his drink.

A thimble.

The World’s Greatest Swordsman is now delicately sipping wine from a thimble.

But don’t say a word. Do not react. Do not acknowledge the absolute absurdity of it all. Because if you do, you will be on the receiving end of the most powerful side-eye of your entire existence.

Good lord. Good. Lord. You lose him a lot. And every single time, it shaves years off your lifespan. Your anxiety? Through the roof. Through the atmosphere. Through the stratosphere.

This man is naturally quiet, an observer more than a speaker, and now that he’s chibi-sized, he is literally a walking jump scare. One moment, he’s perfectly within sight—perhaps perched on the windowsill, staring out dramatically like he’s pondering the weight of existence, thimble of wine in hand. You blink. Gone.

And the worst part? He doesn’t even do it on purpose. Mihawk doesn’t wander off to be mischievous—he just moves effortlessly, like some kind of stealthy little shadow demon. You could be in the same room, watching him one second, and then the next? Vanished.

And now you have to search for your tiny, lethal gremlin of a swordsman, all while panicking because what if you accidentally step on him?!? What if he’s under a cushion?! What if you sit down and crush him?!? You’ve started moving around with the same level of care and fear as someone navigating a minefield.

Mihawk, for his part, is completely unbothered. He does not understand why you’re always looking so frantic when you find him. He gives you a look that speaks why do you look so distressed? completely serious, as he lounges inside the empty fruit bowl on the counter like a very judgmental, brooding plum.

Reaching things has become an ordeal. Mihawk will not ask for help. Ever. If something is out of his reach, he will stare at it. Long and hard. Silently. Contemplating his options like he’s trying to calculate the meaning of life itself. He will not break his dignity by requesting assistance.

He will, however, accept help if you offer—but not without a huff and a very reluctant, “Do not make a habit of this.” Right. Sure. Whatever you say, chibi swordsman.

Being picked up? Absolutely not. You tried once. Once. And the look he gave you? Terrifying. You have never felt more pierced to your very core than when chibi Mihawk silently judged you for daring to lift him like a plushie. He is not a toy!

However, if you warn him beforehand, he will begrudgingly tolerate it—but only if absolutely necessary. If you say, “Hey, I need to pick you up,” he’ll fold his arms, let out a long, suffering sigh, and then mutter, “…Very well. But be swift.” Like you’re asking him to endure some great suffering.

That being said, no matter how much he despises it, he has no choice but to rely on you. And you know what? He hates that. There are certain things he simply cannot do at his current size—whether it’s opening doors, climbing onto furniture, or reaching high places.

And you? You, his beloved, have become his reluctant savior. He tolerates your assistance, but you know every time he needs your help, a little piece of his pride crumbles.

Teasing is absolutely not tolerated. If you so much as snicker when he struggles with something, expect a sharp remark or, worse, a long, judgmental stare. You have never felt so silently insulted in your entire life. And heaven help you if you get too playful—like when you start poking at him or cooing at how “precious” he looks. His eye twitches. His patience thins. You feel the silent threat in the air.

Sleeping is… complicated. His usual bed? Now far too big. You had to improvise—you put together a small, makeshift bed just for him. And while Mihawk said nothing, you swear you caught the faintest hint of approval in his expression. Was that… was that a glimmer of impressed respect in his eyes? You’ll never know for sure, because he’ll never admit it.

Despite your best efforts, though, Mihawk refuses to use the bed half the time. No, because that would be too simple. Instead, you often find him perched dramatically on a pillow, arms crossed, staring at the ceiling like he’s contemplating the tragedies of life. Why? No one knows. It’s just what he does.

And then there was the night you woke up and found him curled up inside your scarf. Not for comfort—no, Mihawk does not need “comfort.” According to him, it was “the most efficient size” for him to rest in. You stared at him, half-awake, and he just stared right back, daring you to question it. You didn’t. You just went back to sleep, pretending you didn’t see anything.

Food has been an experience. You may or may not have handed Mihawk a sewing needle as a sword as a joke. He was deeply offended. The moment you presented it, he narrowed his eyes and stated, “You insult me.”

But guess what? He still uses it. Not because he wants to. No, he would never lower himself to such nonsense—except he has. He has resorted to stabbing pieces of fruit with his tiny sewing-needle sword, all while maintaining a level of dignity that should not be possible. He will slice his meals with precision—small, but still menacing. You have watched this tiny, furious chibi man cut a grape with the same energy he would use to cut down an opponent.

You laughed once. It was a mistake. The moment the chuckle escaped your lips, Mihawk slowly turned his head, golden eyes glowing with silent judgment. And then, with great deliberation, he impaled another piece of fruit without breaking eye contact. You shut up immediately.

When Mihawk finally returns to normal, he acts as if nothing happened. As if he was never a chibi. As if you never had to carry him around. As if he never sat in a fruit bowl or slept in your scarf like a very tiny, very dramatic king.

He refuses to acknowledge any of the more… humiliating moments of his chibi state. The silence is almost worse than if he had complained. It’s the kind of silence that says, “We will never speak of this. Ever.”

However, if you so much as bring it up… Oh, you fool. You absolute buffoon.

He will turn to you with one long, unamused stare. And then, with calm deliberation, his hand will subtly grip the hilt of his sword—a silent warning. A promise. Do not test me.

That said, you were particularly helpful during his time as a chibi, so he does, in his own way, show some small (read: microscopic) token of gratitude. Maybe he’ll pour you a glass of wine. Maybe he’ll spare you from one of his usual sharp remarks. Maybe, just maybe, he’ll allow you one victory and not punish you too harshly.

But make no mistake—he remembers everything. Every single moment. Every joke. Every time you teased him. Every time you picked him up without warning.

And if you mocked him too much? You should start watching your back. Because Mihawk is not a man who forgets. And perhaps, one day, you’ll wake up… and find yourself chibi.

And when that day comes? Mihawk will simply stand before you, full-sized once more, staring down at your tiny form. No words will be spoken. But his smirk will say everything.

Your fate has been sealed.

#mihawk x y/n #mihawk x you #mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk x you #dracule mihawk x reader #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x reader #op x you #op x y/n #op x reader #I want a chibi Mihawk too 😔

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fatuismooches · 4 months ago

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You've been distant for the last few days. Dottore sends some friends in hopes of getting through to you. (In other words, Dottore has his crow friends deliver some gifts to cheer you up.)

You hadn't been quite yourself as of late, and it was awfully noticeable. It was something Dottore was struggling to adjust to despite the couple of other times it had happened.

For a long time, the scholar had thought he had everything about you within his grasp. He had studied you like the finest sample that had ever landed in his hands to learn as much as could be learned about you, starting from when you two had reached the status of mere acquaintances. He carefully documented everything that could be known about you, from observing your reactions in various situations and then being able to predict what you would do in others (to some extent, you being ever the enigma), to examining every inch of your body. It was an experiment that could make his head hurt at times or his body burst in pleasure.

But when Dottore really thinks back to the time he spent with you at the Akademiya, he realizes that maybe his experiment wasn't as extensive as he first thought, the reason being that he's never truly seen you sad or upset.

Yes, there were times you were tired, or burnt out, or shed a couple of tears over some harsh words from another, but you seemed to bounce back soon enough. Rather, surprisingly enough, he was more vulnerable on that front, still vividly remembering the night he bitterly cried and spat out how that village had wronged him, stiffening at your feather-light touches.

It turns out a few centuries later, that there were always possibilities that even he couldn't account for. Dottore still remembered when you started full-on sobbing in front of him for the first time. He was, naturally, at a loss as to what to do other than hold you.

Logically he had known that your illness wouldn't have been a smooth ride of course, but he still couldn't have been prepared for this. Even if he was, all the preparation wouldn't have been helpful in practice, considering the lump in his throat looking at your shaking form. He wasn't made for this - to be gentle, to be kind, to be patient and understanding.

However, those were just some of the things that you needed. This wasn't a matter of whether he could, it was that he must.

And so, during certain times, the segments had to gently coax you out of bed and clean you up as quick as they could. One dressed you and one fed you whatever your stomach could handle, while another tried to keep your attention with his fantastical stories.

But then there were days when you didn't want to talk at all. You didn't even want to feel Dottore's hands run along your body soothingly, something you always longed for. It was times like these when the all-knowing Harbinger was at a loss. How can he go about helping you if he can't even see you? How could he help his beloved this time, when you've helped him all those years ago?

He would figure it out for you.

—

The beautiful, snowy landscape always seemed to quiet your deafening mind. For some reason, it sometimes got too loud, making your head ache, but seeing snow slip off tree branches and little critters dart around brought some solace to you. Then again, it wasn't like there was much else to do. Even with those, you didn't feel like doing anything actually.

With a sigh, you lowered your head onto your desk and closed your eyes, still burning despite having slept an awful lot last night. Maybe you should head back to bed and hope a sweet dream will bless you. You idly drew with your fingers, tracing the colors of the wood table, eyelids indeed drooping once more when suddenly a loud tap on your window had you shooting straight up.

Immediately, you noticed the ruffle of black feathers with specks of white dust on your windowsill, tapping to be let in.

... Dottore's crow friends? You hadn't seen them in a long time. Upon closer look, there was something in its beak- but another hard tap quickly made you move to open the window. Then, one, two, three, four... five birds hopped in, shaking their feathers and leaving the wetness of snow on your table. Admittedly, seeing these little guys made your shoulders relax a bit. You shut it as fast as you opened it, and turned around to see a murder of crows cawing at you expectantly, wanting to give you the items they held in their beaks already.

One by one, the birds dropped a Rainbow Rose into your palm, the next a Lakelight Lily, then a Lumidouce Bell, and lastly, your favorite, a Sumeru Rose, quite simple compared to the others. They made quite an odd bouquet, meaning there was only one person who could have made it.

You carefully set the flowers aside to retrieve a small box that the last crow held. Pulling at the tiny ribbon, the lid came off and there lay a few tiny yet expensive chocolates and a card with Dottore's signature handing.

"Beloved,

A new and unusual batch of specimens came in recently. Though we typically don't use plants like these, they have their uses in some areas. Regardless, I remember you always wanted to see some flowers from other nations. I chose the ones with the highest quality. I hope they are to your liking."

The silly and sweet gesture made a small smile creep up on your face, especially considering you already knew what the flowers meant.

Passion and love. An eternal promise. The wish for reunion. Home.

You sank down in your chair and popped the sweet into your mouth, the flavor warming your dry mouth. Prodding at the lily's watery bubble, you really were touched. But you just still couldn't face him again. The gentle caws and nudges from the crows made it seem like they somehow understood your feelings. But then the flapping of wings and sudden drop of something catch your attention. A notepad and pen now were in front of you.

"W-What... you think I should write back to him?" A chorus of caws echoed in agreement and encouragement. "I suppose... it's not a bad idea." Swallowing your nervousness, you put pen to paper but you didn't know what to write, the ink blotting the paper. Rubbing your forehead, you thought hard for a while, until you ended up with the most straightforward thing.

"Thank you, Zandik."

Folding the paper, one of the crows clutched it in its beak, ready to deliver the rather short yet meaningful message. After you petted all of them a few times, they were off once again into the snowy land.

—

Only a few minutes later, tapping could once again be heard but at Dottore's office this time. Of course, he'd expected them, and took refuge in the warmth of his room as well as crowding his shoulders and arm. Seeing as their beaks were empty, he knew they had completed this very important mission. But then a poke at his cheek made him see the small paper.

Opening it up, he read the shaky handwriting that spoke of three words, and then placed it in his locked drawer for safekeeping.

—

After quite some time had passed, you finally found yourself able to ask him a question that lingered on your mind.

"So... did you teach them to do that all for lil old me?" Dottore waved your question off as you giggled, then wrapped your arms around him and snuggled into his back.

"Zandik. I... I..." You struggled to finish your sentence due to how many things you could say - 'Thank you for not giving up on me,' 'I'm sorry to weigh you down,' 'I wish I wasn't like this-'.

But then the squeeze of your hands had you gasping back to reality, while Dottore had remained silent. It was his way of saying not to worry yourself with words, so you didn't. Instead, you swallowed back the lump in your throat and rested your head against him.

You can enjoy this moment, without worrying about what kind of days may lie ahead.

#smooches talks #dottore love notes <3 #fragile reader <3 #dottore x reader #big fan of dottore being a gift giver tbh #he always has sm trinkets for u #and akademiya him would be so embarrassed abt it he'd be like “here take this idc” and just shove it into ur arms #big fan of the doter being soft in general actually hehe #i really cant wait to see him again so i can develop more soft (and angsty) hcs for him #the doter...!!!#divider by cafekitsune

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sillysoliloquyshits · 23 days ago

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Things we don't really talk about much on Ne Zha 2 (and the first movie:

1. Ne Zha may seem very impulsive once his temper is on fire, but he can be very focused and clear minded on his responsibilities and loyalties no matter what, as shown when he could've just let Ao Bing die out of vengeance for his dad, but he still rushed to beat Lady Shi up so he can get Ao Bing's problem done for and so he can focus on enacting revenge on Ao Guang

2. In that similar vein it could be interpreted that Ne Zha was taking a gamble in destroying his body to free himself from the curse in the cauldron (instead of following his mom in death), since he may have taken Ao Guang's words that the Samadhi fire in the cauldron is compatible with his own seriously, so even despite the raging grief and agony he still tried his hardest to free himself so he can free his dad and Ao Bing and everyone later

3. Ao Bing learns as quickly as Ne Zha (who literally mastered shapeshifting without his master's help very quickly) and while it's not shown when exactly Ao Bing too learnt shapeshifting, it's clear that with their special spiritual power status they just learn new and difficult skills fast

4. Lady Yin and Li Jing really share a powerful bond where even if Lady Yin spent her last moments with Ne Zha, it's very understandable that she still loves her husband too even without having a chance to say goodbye, and if you're a couple who already gave birth to three outstanding godly children, pretty sure you already knew what your wife was thinking and Li Jing let his wife spend her last moments with her son as he knows all along Ne Zha is her top priority and that's okay, it's called selfless love in unspoken communication

5. Also it must be said that Li Jing does subconsciously listen to his wife, as in the first movie he was persuaded to let Tai Yi Zhen Ren try to kill Ne Zha at birth until his wife came to protect him, and Li Jing was persuaded that no matter what Ne Zha is still his son, and when at the end of the first movie Ne Zha said his only regret with his dad is never having a chance to play Jianzi with him, which broke him as he realised he should've listened to Lady Yin in spending more time to make Ne Zha happy before his death, instead of strictly training him, so yeah Li Jing totally knows what listen to your wife means

7. That being said what's more heartbreaking is that the reason why Lady Yin was the one that threw the oblivion pill away from Ne Zha instead of Li Jing was because he himself couldn't make the choice in choosing his wife or his son and his wife chose for him, which just makes his grief even worse, like when I rewatched the movie I just felt so freaking awful for Li Jing haiz-

8. Ao Guang has ended up being a lonelier figure, with his siblings all betraying him and now having to let his son go with his crush best buddy forever has made his journey as a king more alone than ever, but it's not without logic as he may have figured that with Ne Zha already willing to do so much for Ao Bing, they might as well stick together to ensure Ao Bing's safety, since the Loong/dragon clan being somewhat refugees and hunted down by the heavenly court would bode ill for Ao Bing so yeah

9. I might be delulu but I saw one of the calligraphy ink posters of Lady Yin and someone saw a purple pill floating below her face and at her hair which could foreshadow her fate, but when I watched a second time I saw that bead again at her hair tie when there was a closeup of her face in sending Ne Zha away so if the creative team really hid her foreshadowed fate in her literal hair tie I'm gonna-

10. While Tai Yi is kinda nerfed for continuity reasons (where hundreds of his cultivation years are gone just to protect Ne Zha and Ao Bing's souls), we can't deny that he still has the most integrity out of all the immortals, along with Ne Zha's parents, so yeah hopefully that will be continued for Tai Yi as he's ironically the model of what a cultivator should be like despite his lower levels of power compared to other immortals, as he still has a conscience (and is forced to be a babysitter for both Ne Zha and Ao Bing as usual lol)

11. It's also ironic that while the actual humans and humans-turned-immortals are the truly righteous ones with a conscience and not as discriminatory, it's those immortals who were once spirits who project their prejudices and hatred for their own spirit status on themselves and deepen the divide between spirits/demons and humans and the hypocrisy that comes with it, which really gives a dark reflection on how harmful internalised racism can be

12. One instance I realised was that when Shen Zheng Dao was training his disciples by the waterfall he blamed his students on how their cultivation paths are harder was solely because of their spirit birth, which when internalised sounds harsh as one doesn't really choose their birth and it also hints to the planting of seeds of internalised hatred for their own true nature and thinking that things will change for the better when you're more capable of 'not looking like a spirit/looking human' and cultivation, which really worsens the suppressing of the self in cultivation

13. Shen Gong Bao is a very ambitious character who does misdeeds to get to the top, but at least it's shown that he does work a lot harder than most for his own success, just that he snapped and decided to try and cheat his way through with stealing the Heavenly Pearl then, but at least he doesn't cheat all the way since he didn't really take the heavenly pills to help either, so it's a nuanced take on how as an antagonistic figure Shen Gong Bao doesn't always rely on his trickery

14. With all that what exactly is the purpose of cultivating? And with Li Jing and Lady Yin naively thinking cultivating is all about helping more people and accumulating merits, does that mean with their human nature that so many wished to be born as, does that mean the humans are the ones that are more sheltered from brutal realities spirits have to face in cultivating? When did such a divide start back then?

15. Some people have guessed that it's unfair that He Tong with her powers is only working to serve Wu Liang around instead of doing hunter duties like Lu Tong, and this is either a nudge to gender roles in work, where females no matter how skilled are forced to do more subservient roles, or simply because with He Tong's powers she works better as a defence while Lu Tong's archer skills is much more suitable for attacking

16. Iirc, Ao Run sort of looked like she was holding back when she was fighting Ne Zha and Ao Bing even though she's very swift in her own way, and according to BTS art and sketches of the second movie, the team had thought of how Ao Run favoured Ao Bing as her nephew, so even if she has sided with the villain, she still secretly can't beat to hurt her beloved nephew either even if Ao Bing would regard her as his enemy from now on

17. Ao Run and her other two brothers serve as a dark mirror of what happens when rebellious idealism at youth withers to cruel compliance to reality, and the director has said that Ao Run was once like Ne Zha and Ao Bing, but thousands of years of imprisonment has caused them to side the bad guys they once vowed to fight against out of self preservation, which is understandable, whereas Shen Gong Bao shows us a figure who probably once did that and still tried to fight against the bad guys after having snapped, so it goes to show that with youth and less experience, the young ones will inevitably feel invincible against anything life throws at them, the real question is whether they (Ne Zha and Ao Bing) could still persist on their core ideals and morals

18. Sometimes it's also got to do with one's nature and status as well, since Ne Zha and Ao Bing may be able to do their rebellions against heaven differently with their greater innate power compared to most characters, which pits them in a better position to survive anything the antagonists throw at them, so yeah sometimes when it comes to rebelling against the system, it's not just your morals your own innate abilities are a huge factor in determining whether you prefer to die trying or to prioritise your own self preservation

Some of these ideas are my own thoughts and some of them I heard from other people either on Tumblr or on Rednote but yeah! Super long sorry again-

#nezha thoughts #nezha meta #nezha #nezha 2 #nezha 2019 #nezha 2025 #哪吒 #哪吒2 #ao bing #ao guang #lady yin #li jing #shen gong bao #ao run #character and plot and theme analysis #movie always hits hard after several rewatches #me who watched the movie twice #this is good writing we've been lacking for some time

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lets-try-some-writing · 6 months ago

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Shortstack to Brickhouse

Jazz had endless fun making Orion run after him before the war. Unfortunately for him, Optimus has taken it upon himself to pay back the vorns of runs through Iacon.

(This is going to be part one for a series methinks. We shall see.)

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

"There's a bar this way that I enjoy. Best engex in Iacon." Orion, looking more than a little winded, huffed as he all but sprinted to keep up with Jazz's strides. The archivist's vents flared as he ran along, his fans running on their highest setting in an attempt to follow Jazz along the purposefully convoluted path.

Any potential guilt he might have felt for forcing the far shorter mech to tail him was smothered behind amusement. Orion hardly left the archives, and when he did leave, he usually just took the train. Jazz's logic was simple. He took his bestie for a walk in order to get him to move for once, and in return, said bestie got a treat at the end of the trip.

"How far is it?" Orion managed to choke out a question in-between frantic venting. The poor mech hardly reached Jazz's hips. Every step Jazz took was four or five to the smaller bot, a fact that he found eternally amusing during their outings.

"Just a few city districts." Jazz had to fight back a snort as Orion all but deflated, his optics wide in distress.

"A few districts? Jazz, it can take me joors just to get through one!" Orion's exclamation was one that had been repeated many times over their various trips. He never stopped being dramatic, especially when forced to be active for once. It didn't matter that Jazz had been slowly working Orion into taking longer and longer trips. The archivist was agitated regardless.

And it was hilarious.

"Then we better be moving quickly, Rion! Otherwise we'll miss out on the bar!" Orion made a sound that bordered on a wail as he increased his pace in order to match Jazz's casual jog. His shorter companion straddled the line between being categorized as a minicon and a small civilian frame. It showed in his every step, especially with his frantic sprinting.

The only reason Orion wasn't legally registered as a minicon at all was due to the lack of rights for such frame types. It had taken more than a little effort on Orion's part to prove himself worthy of being listed as a normal civilian instead. But secretly, Jazz was pretty sure Orion was some flavor of minicon all the same, if only because he was built like a brick despite being on the taller end for such frame types.

Not that he was going to tell Orion that, of course. Orion was rather touchy when it came to his height, a fact Jazz abused on the regular.

"Come on shortstack!" Jazz laughed as Orion almost tripped over his pedes in an attempt to keep up. The archivist threw a middle digit in his direction, a scowl on his face as his frame steamed.

"I'm going… to shove you… onto a train… track." Orion wheezed out between erratic venting. His optics blazed with anger that Jazz had only ever seen directed at him while on similar trips. He liked seeing Orion all riled up. If he was pissed off when they got to the bar, he'd be far more fun than he would have been otherwise.

Angry Orion made a great drinking buddy, unlike calm Orion, who would chat the audial off the nearest bot, likely to rant about his favorite philosophical topics. Jazz shivered at the memory of Orion's last composed trip to the bar. Jazz had fallen into recharge in his seat watching Orion preach to some poor spark who got wrapped up in conversation with him. Yeah, he'd take his chances with angry Orion any cycle if it meant his bestie would actually be interesting outside of his work.

"You can try, Rion! If you can catch me, that is!" Grinning, Jazz gave Orion only a nano-klik to gather himself before he broke into a proper sprint. As he ran, he laughed and gleefully listened to Orion's screech of outrage.

Sooner or later, Orion would give up and resort to his alt-mode to try and keep up. It would dig at the smaller mech's sense of pride, only serving to make him more upset. This particular trip was long too. Jazz was betting at least twenty shanix on Orion being absolutely livid when they got to the bar.

Primus, he couldn't wait.

----

"We have an inspection to perform. Please follow me." Optimus, still reading a datapad, tapped Jazz on the shoulder to stir him from his defrag. He reset his optics to rid himself of any lingering lethargy before standing up with a stretch. His spinal struts popped as he did so, earning a groan of relief as he fell into step with his friend turned Prime.

Gone was the archivist who could barely ride most attractions even if he were to be allowed into Six Lasers. Now there stood a towering giant who dwarfed Jazz and most of everyone else by at least three or four heads. It was a lot to take in.

"Righty Rion! Lead the way!" Before the words even formulated fully, Optimus was already striding forward with newfound grace. Jazz adjusted his visor, processing just how fast Optimus was moving at a casual walk of all things. But he quickly got himself back in order and hurried after his friend and leader.

He had to jog just to keep up, a fact that he noted with a hint of surprise as Optimus didn't bother to slow down as he usually did with others he brought with him for whatever reason. Jazz didn't mind the extra effort it took to keep moving, but he did file the chance in behavior away for later. Was Optimus feeling alright?

Optimus led the way out of the Citadel, guiding Jazz through all sorts of back roads that the Primacy would faint seeing their Prime walk down. The path was meandering and wild, with no coordination that Jazz could pick out. Even more strange than that, Jazz could have sworn Optimus was picking up his pace. He didn't look like he was moving all that quickly. His every stride was graceful, weight perfectly distributed. Compared to him, Jazz was starting to feel a burn in his legs as he forced himself to move faster just to keep up.

"Where are we going? This isn't a path I know." Jazz called out, but he was met with a contemplative hum instead of a real answer. Optimus hadn't even looked up from his datapad, almost as if the path and the brutal pace didn't bother him in the slightest.

"Military installation 43B." Optimus finally spoke up as they rounded a corner. The moment Jazz registered what was being said, he skidded to a halt and stared at Optimus in horror.

"That's on the other side of Iacon!" Optimus, slag him, turned around slowly. As he did, Jazz found his spark sinking as he noted a smug grin on the Prime's face.

"That it is. But I'm sure if we move quickly, we can still arrive in time for the inspection I scheduled." Optimus returned back to his datapad, his pace absolutely picking up as he started into a casual hustle. Jazz scrambled to keep up, having to sprint to make up the difference as Optimus laughed.

"If you can keep up, that is." Oh that slagger.

"Rion!" Jazz lamented his every life decision as Optimus continued on his merry way, settling into a slow run that left Jazz throwing all the power in his frame into running as fast as he possibly could.

Slag it all. The Matrix may have made him bigger, but it hadn't made him any less Orion.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #optimus prime #orion pax #jazz #pre war cybertron #short orion pax #tall as pit optimus prime #his friends had so much fun fragging with him #now they have to deal with him being tall

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genericpuff · 5 months ago

Note

rereading the og LO pisses me off bc why did Hestia take Kore’s coat??!! The Minthe plant situation, but as a side note Eros + Psyche was such a beautiful story in the beginning. Also do you plan on giving Hermes a partner?

OH so that's actually sorta explained in the physical books, there's a bonus chapter in Volume 2 that tries to make sense of it.

Frankly, like most of the bonus episodes, it doesn't really do a good job of filling in plotholes or logical inconsistencies, for a few reasons:

1.) I think it's wild that this episode was supposed to explain Hestia's cruelty in taking the coat (Rachel even addresses this in the author's note leading into the episode) but then Hestia is still kind of an irresponsible asshole when she just IMMEDIATELY starts infodumping to Apollo, completely unprompted, about how Persephone is the newest initiate in her virgin club. Like it's just bad writing for starters because it's clear Rachel's just trying to get the 'plot' of the episode rolling, but it's also like... wasn't this group supposed to be about protecting women from men? Why is she volunteering that information so enthusiastically? 💀 I get it's kind of a nitpick but it still kind of made me go "huh???" because it's frankly just none of Apollo's business as both a man and a non-member and there's just zero reason why Hestia should be releasing that kind of information publicly, especially when it's regarding such a sensitive and personal topic like virginity. Like was there seriously NO BETTER WAY for someone as "conniving" as Apollo to find out this info?? He didn't even intimidate or weasel the info out of her, she just started fucking spilling on her own 😭😆

2.) I don't know why Hestia just immediately took Apollo's word on what he "saw" and opted to go along with his idea to "punish her" which somehow led to the decision to take the coat. He doesn't specifically say to do that, sure, but it's clear she's taking his word over Persephone's literally IMMEDIATELY when she even says aloud that it's out of character for Persephone, and even after getting Persephone's side of the story in that episode where she confronts her, she still takes the coat ???

This is another one of those "where is the feminism???" issues because even with the bonus episode included all we get is "men are evil and awful!" despite the fact that Hestia is a grown ass woman who should be capable of making her own sound judgments. Like where was Hestia's OWN AGENCY that she could have used to decide Persephone was telling the truth about what really happened ??? It's obviously just another opportunity to villainize Apollo which, sure, okay, he's been established as a scumbag rapist at this point so he's undeniably a villain, but... why is Hestia not listening to Persephone at all? And then if that was supposed to be the point, why wasn't that actually addressed in the comic which was still ongoing at the time? Hestia didn't even have the nerve to bring the coat back to Persephone herself, it was Artemis who returned it to her in the end. So we never even get a proper resolution to Hestia's actions, she never apologizes to Persephone, she never takes accountability for her own mistakes in trusting Persephone's rapist over her (which is unfortunately something that happens a lot in these kinds of situations and would have been great to address in a story that's actually trying to be "feminist") and ultimately she just never grows as a character despite having such a direct impact on the main cast.

3.) What was the point of this bonus chapter, exactly? Like I guess we sorta know why Hestia took the coat now (if we don't take ANY of what I addressed above into account) but it doesn't explain at all why that was the decision, nor does it end up affecting the overall plot because Persephone still winds up working in the Underworld, she still spends a shitload of time with Hades, and Hestia is nowhere to be seen, despite the fact that she knows at this point through Apollo that Persephone has interacted with him. How does smugly taking the coat from a 19 year old girl who was recently force fed alcohol to the point of blacking out and then dumped in Hades' car address the original problem that was brought to her attention via Apollo? Despite the bonus episodes being used as a way to "patch up" holes in the narrative, it still doesn't really explain anything, it kinda just raises more questions than it answers.

(*I'll even add real quick that Rachel's apparent reasoning in her author's notes for these bonus chapters not being included in the comic is often so silly because the comic itself is full of so much pointless filler and nonsense that goes nowhere, while the actual important explanations get shoved into the back end of the physical books. It's incredibly backwards and tells me less that these were "deleted scenes" and more that they were attempts to backtrack on Rachel's own poor writing, with the added benefit of making money off it to boot due to these otherwise essential scenes and bits of information being exclusive to the physical books. Many "bonus episodes" feel more like they should have been in the comic and so many canon episodes that got published feel like they could have been bonus episodes. Again, at best, it's bad writing and bad editing, so much so that apparently even Rachel can't fully stand by her decisions because she can't "decide" if these bonus episodes are canon or not.)

4.) Yet another case of "the worst guy ever just made a good point" because even though Apollo's doing it for nefarious, self-centered reasons, he's not wrong that it was extremely concerning for Persephone to spend the night at Hades' place, and that's made worse by the fact that we know Persephone wound up telling her side of the story just for Hestia to punish her anyways. Unfortunately because Apollo has to be Bryce from 13 Reasons Why, the only angle he's coming at it from is "YEAH YOU BETTER GET REVENGE ON PERSEPHONE FOR DOING THAT!!! SHE'S SUCH A SLUT!!!", but there's a whole other separate angle here that his villainy is distracting us from, an angle that actually WOULD have accomplished the subjects of feminism that LO claimed to be tackling and failed at - why was Persephone put into that situation in the first place?

There's never any real consequence to Eros for intentionally getting Persephone blackout drunk and dumping her in Hades' car. There aren't any real consequences to Aphrodite for targeting a girl who did nothing but exist. There aren't any real consequences to Hades for offending Aphrodite within earshot by comparing her to a 19 year old girl who he just spent several minutes oggling through a window. The only one who's actually allowed to suffer consequences is the easily identifiable rapist character, because anyone who knows what sex is knows that Rape is Bad, but no one actually wants to identify and discuss all the other terrible actions and characters within this story - including the leading man who's supposed to be "perfect" for Persephone - because those actions are a lot more subtle and normalized and aren't capable of being consumed easily within a single tweet.

It's a no-brainer to understand "rape is bad"; it takes a lot more self-reflection and honesty with yourself - especially if you're part of LO's core demographic of both young teenage girls and middle aged women - to recognize that Hades and Persephone's relationship is predatory right from the start, and that being a feminist doesn't mean exclusively caring about 'good' women and punishing the 'bad' ones.

#sorry that turned into an essay LOL it's been a whileee #p.s. idk if Hermes will have a partner by the end of rekindled #this isn't his story LOL but we'll see #anti lore olympus #lore olympus critical #lo critical

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